| abstract
| - Robustus is thinking that the duty officer in Polyhex is vile sadist as he walks into Cubicron. He didn't come here when he was a neutral for a very good reason, he didn't want to tread on another medics home turf. But now as a civilian Decepticon? He still doesn't want to be here, but he has little choice. This is where the duty officer sent him.. this is his punishment for arranging that Chimera got away. As punishment's go, this is pretty bad. Lifeline has just opened the clinic for the day, and it looks like today is going to be busy. There's a line of neutrals and vagrant types waiting for medical assistance, and there's only the medic ever on duty. Robustus notices the line up at the building up ahead. He has of course heard the local medics name spoken by neutrals that sometimes came here to do some trading. He shakes his head a little as he stops a moment to observe how she deals with them all. Far enough away that he hopes he isn't noticed, but close enough to see what is going on. Lifeline speaks with each patient politely and professionally, giving them whatever maintenance or repairs they need efficiently. But it's still too slow. At the pace the one medic is going, this line will take the ENTIRE day to go through, if she's lucky. Robustus considers thoughtfully, this is her turf and she may not like another medic butting in, but it is obvious she will need help. However, there is the drawback of him being a civilian Decepticon, which may just scare line right out of here. He frowns and sighs, shaking his head. He turns to walk away when a large mech approaches him. A mech that knows him. "Robustus? What the slag are you doing in Cubicron?" the mech asks. Down the streets of Cubicron skips Swivel, a seventeen-foot tall bundle of sunshine. Her skipping slows to just an effervescent stroll. She in and of herself is starting to become a little more familiar in the streets of Cubicron, lending much needed vivacity and color. However, she is armed and dangerous. Well, not so much dangerous, and her armament consists of something shaped like a small pistol. It's small and purple, and she appears to be sucking on the muzzle while humming; a high, nasally sound. She slows down seeing the line up in front of Lifeline's establishment with a thoughtful raise of her optic ridges. Robustus looks up at the larger mech with a little smile, "Would you believe it’s because Megatron has a cruel duty officer?" he asks. The mech just peers at him, tapping on the medics civilian Decepticon symbol. "Why you join them for?" This makes the medic sigh softly, then reply, "They need me. One medic is totally insane. The other lost her memory." The mech snorts, "Lovely." Lifeline finishes helping the first patient and moves on to the second one. Yeah, it's going to be a LOOOONG day. Swivel idly wonders if she shouldn't come back another day to finally get the dent in her thigh dealt with. Ricochet marks were really not a concern. Actually, Swivel was just shopping around for a medic she could hopefully build a rapport with; someone she could rely on. She pulls the small pistol shaped thing out of her mouth, hitting it against her hand and clicking the trigger frantically until a small energon goodie plopped out of the muzzle. Her attention is then caught by the two mechs talking, quickly identifying one as a Decepticon. She continues her humming, but tones it down and edges over to listen better. Robustus nods, "I wish I could laugh at your sarcasm, but sadly it’s not one of those cycles. The only reason I'm even down here is because Megatron punished me and another Decepticon for allowing a prisoner to escape." The mech smirks, "Allowed huh? More like arranged Robustus, I know how you work." The medic just smiles, "I will not confirm or deny that statement my friend." Swivel goes on her tippy toes, trying to get an idea of how long the line is while she listens to two mechs chat it up. She slips her pistol-shaped energon goodie dispenser away and tilts her head to the side. She just wasn't sure if she really wanted to wait in the lineup or not. Her issue was so very minor... but a maintenance checkup WOULD be good. It'd been a while. She decides to just go for it. However, with the idea that she won't do it boredly. Stepping in line, she turns to glance over at the mech and the 'con medic. "Hey! Oy! You thar!" She beckons at Robustus. The mech chuckles and nudges Robustus in the shoulder, "Yeah, I hear ya. I'll see ya around eh." Robustus nods, "Oh you may indeed, have a good cycle." then he turns toward the high pitched feminine call. "Me?" he asks. Lifeline speaks with the timeworn old mech who just entered her clinic, starting the repairs. But by the visible condition of the patient this repair is not going to be nearly as fast or easy as the previous one. If she's noticed the others, she makes no mention of it. Swivel nods her head to Robustus, beckoning him with even more fervor, her optics wide. She glances at the line to make sure it hadn't moved much, then back to Robustus. Robustus strides over toward Swivel, stopping a arms' length away, "Yes miss?" he asks, a little cock of his head given. Swivel perches her hands on her waist, sizing up the medic as he comes closer, giving her much more to see and view. She then allows her smile to broaden. "Sorry, I know that being nosy can get you into trouble around here, but I couldn't help but overhear you and that mech talking. Er..." she trails off for a moment. "Oh guess I should introduce myself before I go any further. That would be the polite thing," she thrusts her hand out. "My name is Swivel." Swivel glances at the line to see if it was moving yet, then back at the Decepticon. Robustus smiles to Swivel's words to him, then inclines his head. He takes her hand, oddly gentle yet firm at the same time, his voice a deep baritone, "Robustus. How may I help you Swivel?" he asks, releasing her hand. Lifeline just keeps on working with her patients, oblivious to the conversation going on beyond the clinic's waiting line. Swivel allows her smile to extend to its limits at the handshake. This was the sort of grip she liked and she returned it with a firm squeeze before releasing. "Actually, I was wondering if you knew a Decepticon named Goa..." she says, trailing off as she glances at the line, noticing it had moved and taking a few steps to keep up, then looks back to Robustus. "See, he owes me... big." Robustus chuckles at that name, "Ah Goa, yes I know him." he intones, "What does he owe you exactly?" he inquires curiously, then looking toward the clinic, "She always so busy?" Swivel brings up a hand, her fingers obstructing her mouth for a moment or two as she seems to evaluate the medic again, but then whips her hand away, waving it in a dismissive gesture. "Oh.... he knows... but you don't need to," Swivel says evasively, still wearing an airy smile. She keeps her queue in line while keeping a conversation. "Hmmm.... sometimes she is sometimes she isn't. However, with war and crime, what would you expect?" Robustus hmms softly to the covering of her mouth with her fingers, then inclines his head. "I'll tell him such if you so wish, Swivel." he states, his smile remaining. "Ah, yes.. I see. I've had my solar cycles of long lines myself. Now though, I have a lot of spare time on my hands with moments of furious repair action." Lifeline finally finishes helping the old mech who goes on about his way, and patient number three enters the clinic. Oy. Some help would really be appreciated here! Swivel nods her head. "Yes... and I was about to say it doesn't help that the medics keep signing up to either faction, leaving little for us fence sitters.... well... less QUALIFIED medical help anyway. And, just tell Goa when you see him that Swivel is looking for him. That will be enough." She glances up the line for a moment or two. "If you have free time, why don't you offer a hand? Primus knows Cubicron could get all of the help it can!" Robustus inclines his head slightly to Swivel's words, "There are still qualified medical types around Swivel, just have to know where to find them. Some have taken to mobile medical clinics like I used to do, taking care all over the planet." then he glances toward the clinic area and frowns a hint, "I usually do not go where I may not be wanted, Swivel. Especially so now when I'm wearing this." he taps at the symbol upon his chest. Swivel frowns and crosses her arms over her chest as her optics narrow at the insignia. "BLEHK! Politics! Slag, ya think people who need help care about that? Those who DO obviously aren't desperate enough. Don't medics take some sort of oath or something? Go and ask if she needs help. If she chews you out and shoos you off, what are you REALLY losing?" Lifeline sends this patient off quickly enough. Clearly, this was an easy one. But still, taking a long time. Robustus smiles just slightly lopsidedly as she throws the oath at him, "Ouch." then moves past her toward the clinic without another word to the femme, he stops just outside the clinic proper and intones, "Would you like an extra pair of hands?" he inquires of Lifeline, "I happen to have a couple free ones." Swivel unfolds her arms and lets them perch on her hips again, a smug and triumphant grin playing across her features. She steps up as is necessary when the line moves, and keeps her place like a good little femme. Lifeline looks up from her patient as a mech speak up and offers to help. Her expression is immediately one of suspicion, but oddly not because of the purple symbol on his chest. "What are your credentials?" The clinic itself is a VERY clean and organized place, very much in contrast with the rest of the city. Robustus meets her gaze, not even flinching. After you have faced Megatron at his worst, there is no one you fear anymore. "Ah my credentials, would you like my long list of names of those I have repaired along with my graduation diploma stating I was in the top 2 percent of my class plus recommendations from the teachers that taught me?" he asks, "I certainly can provide all of them." then he turns slightly, looking at the repair she's working on. "Or I can show you how I would handle that, your choice." Lifeline seems to study the mech for another moment before stepping aside and gesturing for him to approach the patient. Luckily the neutral mech on the med table is a very accommodating sort, and is only here for routine preventive maintenance. Robustus steps inside, "Good cycle." he offers to the mech, taking a moment to sanitize his hands before he gets to work examining the patient. "Hmm. Mm hmm." spotting an issue and slipping a hand inside to secure a slightly loose energon line and tightening the fitting clamp. Optics scanning carefully throughout the exposed internals, looking for further leaks or signs of wear that would need to be tended to immediately. He fingers a glob of crusty oil near a connection, which stirs a old leak free. Using his fingers to clamp it until he can put an actual clamp on either side of the leak. It's minor, easily fixable. Lifeline crosses her arms and watches silently as she mentally assesses the mech's skill and mannerism with the neutral. She knows that some of them are uneasy about the Decepticon symbol, but for her she only cares if the mech is good enough to not botch simple maintenance tasks. Robustus uses a clean cloth to clean the line of the crusty oil, making sure he has a clean site to work with so he can patch the leak without having to replace the entire line. The clamps are removed once the leak is taken care of and he moves right along, idly humming a little tune to himself. A couple more lines get a tweak, a wiring set up gets a retwist, transformation cog gets a greasing as does a few other joints. He misses nothing, every detail is scrutinized, accessed, taken care of it if needs it. Finally he smiles to the patient, "Good as new, do come back again." he states, closing up the access panels on the mech so he can move on. Lifeline nods in approval and speaks with the mech briefly about payment, which seems to consist of more bartering than actual payment, and then sees him off. "All right then. We'll each see a customer at a time, should make this go faster." She briefly explains to him how the spare parts and tools and equipment are organized, then steps to the door to see the next two patients in. Robustus smiles and listens attentively, then taps on his right forearm. A panel moves back, showing the tools within.. already sterilized. "I carry my own tools." he states, then moving to a spare med table and patting it, "Next." he intones, getting his hands sanitized and going through the routine of finding out what the patient needs done then accessing the area with the issue to take a look at it. Again you hear him idly humming a little tune as he works, he is thorough and expedient with his repairs. Movements practiced. Eventually it comes to be Swivel's turn to step up. She fidgets with her fingers a little. She had not actually had a routine check up in a long time, but just went in for necessary repairs or touch-ups as they became necessary. Smiling, her little voice chirps "Alright... who wants me?" Lifeline looks at Swivel when it's her turn, having just let her patient depart, and gestures for the femme to enter and sit at the chair in front of her workbench. "How may I help you?" Robustus takes the next patient and smiles toward Swivel as the mech takes his spot. Same routine of finding out what the complaints are and sanitizing his hands before he opens the access panel to the area and examines the location. The mech smiles as he recognizes the tune that the medic is humming, makes the time go quicker. Swivel grins and walks over to the bench, hopping up on it, swinging her legs. "Well I took a bullet to the thigh quite some time ago... and sort of ignored it... and to be honest it's been a while since I’ve had a check up... um..." she thinks a moment for just what hadn't been going right. She hmms and haws for a moment, but being a fairly young femme there really isn't a lot of wear and tear on her systems. Lifeline stiffens at Swivel just planting herself on the workbench and coming THIS close to scattering an actuator carefully disassembled to one side. She pauses a moment to moderate her reaction, then nods to the cheery femme. "All right. I'll do full workup then." She sanitizes her hands and gets her scanner to start Swivel's repairs. Robustus continues his humming as he finishes up with the mech, who's complaint was minor. "There you go, take care now. See the lady for your payment." he notes softly. He peers to check on the line, chuckling a bit, then intones, "Next." A glance at Swivel as she chats with Lifeline, then he turns his attention to the femme that sits in front of him.
- The bright, golden light of Prima Facie and Altera lend this huge section of unbroken surface a soft glow, even through the thick layer of ground metal dust and debris that covers it. The flat, metallic plain continues as far as the optic to see, only to be broken in the distance by the broken ruins of a once great city. Like a Phoenix, the city of Iahex once rose from the ashes of Iacon, and like that same Phoenix, Iahex has once more burned itself out in the fires of war, returning again to ashes. Still, this dreary region of destruction and promises broken has an expectant quality to it, a waitfulness. The Phoenix's cycle is never-ending. Bonecrusher Rodimus Prime Obvious exits: Fly leads to Sky above Iahex. South leads to Tunnel of Retoris. Captain Americon has arrived. By this point in time, the Kaon Casino really looks like a casino, with multiple gambling halls and a bar and even an arcade and simulation room. Well... it would, if any of these rooms actually had furniture in them. Scrapper is currently working on the Roulette Hall, and he's building a giant roulette table of death. Oh sure, they'll be smaller, more normal roulette tables, but this one is going to be big enough to use a live Autobot as the ball, there'll be trapdoors in it leading to pits filled with spikes, and Rodimus Prime's hand is going to be the pointer. Speaking of Rodimus Prime... Rodimus Prime is helping. Mind you, when he said 'sounds like fun,' he meant using the completed casino, not the process ofbuilding it. But eh, gotta pay if you want to play, and so Rodimus is here acting as muscle, more or less. He's almost completely recovered from his injuries, so he does have a fair amount of muscle to contribute. He pulls in some furniture to be placed, walking by another pile of supplies in the process. He frowns as he spots something, and puts down the chairs so he can check it out. Then he picks something out of the bin. "Uhm... isn't this /my/ hand?" Komatsu D575A Superdozer gets the future parking lot cleared away and transforms to survey it with a satisfied expression and arms akimbo. "Nice an' clean. That'll do it." The bulldozer noisily and awkwardly pulls itself up into a dense, compactly built green robot about twenty feet tall. And what soars in through an open window and lands on Rodimus Prime's shoulder? Americon! "Sup guys!" he says cheerfully, then looks at Rodimus. Something dawns on him. "Wait a minute... YOU'RE NOT GALVATRON!!!" Scrapper looks at Rodimus Prime nervously and answers hesitantly, "Uh, yes. Yes, that is your hand, except it's my hand now, because I took it from you, uh, a few weeks ago, and you have a new hand now, anyway." Having Bonecrusher around actually soothes Scrapper's frayed wires a bit, but he doesn't fancy their combined chances, should the Dominator Disc fail. Then, Scrapper just facepalms over Captain Americon mistaking Rodimus Prime for Galvatron. Robotic Bald Eagle then observes a spherical distortion appearing in the air next to one of the tables. Woops, almost destabilized the universe by mentioning the *other* guy. Better not do it again, Americon thinks. Bonecrusher scowls at Rodimus, coming in to see where he can lend a hand (ha ha) with the casino floor. "Still don't like usin' this non-union labor. Don't trust 'im," he mutters to Scrapper in a stage whisper. Rodimus Prime smirks at Americon. "No. No, I'm not. Is that a problem?" He examines his hand - well, Scrapper's hand for a moment, a faint frown on his face, and then finally shrugs. "Eh, I was an Autobot then. I deserved whatever I got." Then he absently tosses the hand back into the box. He looks over at Bonecrusher and barkss a laugh. "What, worried about being shown up?" "Bein' undercut more like, slaggin' scabs," grumbles Bonecrusher. Scrapper asides to Bonecrusher, "That's the trouble - if we've really made him into a real Decepticon, he wouldn't be trustworthy, either." More loudly, though, he directs, "I'll need some help setting up the spike pit traps in the big wheel." Scrapper gestures to several crates of ACME spikes, only the best. Robotic Bald Eagle looks rather anxious now on Rodimus's shoulder. "Uh, well, no. Haha. You're cool with us, now. Yeah. Buddy." He ulps a bit though. It's like one day the Ultimate Frenchman declared he was now an American. It doesn't compute! "I can do that," agrees Bonecrusher, picking up a crate and carrying it down to the wheel. He pops the lid off the crate with his thumb and retracts his right hand, extending his drill chuck to replace it. The sharp end fits neatly into the chuck so that he can spin the spikes into the boltholes easily. "Nice to see him not shootin' at us, I guess. What'd you do, get the ol' Robo-Smasher out of storage?" Bonecrusher loves the Robo-Smasher. It cured him! Rodimus Prime shrugs at Bonecrusher. "Let me know what you're gettingg paid and I'll be sure to demand it," he says, then looks over at the boxes of spikes and nods. "Sure, I can help with that." He turns and lifts up another one of the crates, resting it against the shoulder Americon isn't on. "Good to hear," he answers Americon. Then he shakes his head at Bonecrusher. "Updated dominator disc." Scrapper looks like he's just come down with an extreme migraine. He excuses, "...you know, I think I need to go sample the supplies for the bar. Make sure they meet code. I'll be back." Shortly thereafter, Scrapper returns, looking just ever so slightly wobbly. "...where was I? Oh right. Building a roulette wheel of death. Yeah... so the spikes go in the pits. But they have to point UP, not down, that is very important." Robotic Bald Eagle raises a wing. "Hey! We have to make sure the roulette wheel of death works! I can help with that... in America!" "Hnh," grunts Bonecrusher, installing spikes. "Insecticon tech. Never liked the stuff myself." He has to think about the payment part. He's not sure what he gets paid, now that he's thinking about it. Being in the Union mainly seems to mean taking a lot of breaks. "Actually..." Rodimsus grins as he sets down his crate of spikes next to the pit, and will hand them off to Bonecrusher as needed, "It's Autobot tech. You're thinking about Cerebro Shells." Transformers have a lot of brainwashing methods. He glances at Americon and frowns. "Yeah? And how do you intend to help with that?" Rodimsus, the first ex-Autobot Cosntructicon. :(Scrapper shakes his head and replies cheerily, "Wheeljack's technology, actually. Just made better. You don't remember when Wheeljack... er... I'll just pour you a drink, too, Bonecrusher." True to his word, Scrapper does pull out a battered metal mug, fills it with 'samples', and sets it aside on one of the crates for Bonecrusher. "And that's great, Americon! I love volunteers. You can check and make sure that the spikes are fixed in place, once we get them into their pits. Of course, we'll have to use you as the roulette ball, but your sacrifice is appreciated." Bonecrusher vaguely remembers something about dominator discs now. But then, maybe he imagined it. Maybe it was a dream he had. This feels like time paradox stuff. Bonecrusher snags the mug full of fule sample and swigs it while he torques down the bolts on a fluid drain. Can't have corrosive Autobot juices pooling here in the spike trap. It'd rust. "Thanks, Chief." "You're welcome," Rodimus answers automatically as he slots a few more spikes into place. And then he blinks. "Oh. Ah. Sorry. Nevermind." Robotic Bald Eagle flaps his wings excitedly. "What Scrapper said! Oh, boy, this should be a lot of fun!" But probably not. Scrapper wobbles over to inspect the trap doors on some of the slots. Not all of the slots are trapped. Just enough to keep it interesting. A few of the slots will even let the 'ball' go free, because every death trap needs some silly way of escaping it. Scrapper leans way, way over one slot... and falls in through the trap door. Luckily, there aren't spikes in this pit yet. He bangs on the trap-door above him, demanding, "Hey, let me out!" Rodimus Prime peers over the edge of the pit where he's installing spikes. Then he casually leans against the edge, crossing his arms over the side and setting his head on his arms. He smirks. "I don't know... this looks like the perfect time to ask for a raise, Scrapper." Scrapper blurts, "We get paid in purple metal! /Why/ do you think our bases are all purple, huh?" This is probably not true, but Scrapper's panicking, and he just had enough to drink to make himself stop thinking about his origin story. Rodimus Prime hnhs. "Bah." He vaults out of his own hit and observes, "The 'Con symbol may look better, but I still think red and orange and yellow make a better color scheme." He crouches down and flips the trap's cover out of the way before kneeling down. He makes a grab for whatever part of Scrapper he can most easily grab and then lifts the Constructicon out of the pit. Scrapper protests, "What, would you have a /red/ Decepticon symbol? That wouldn't make any sense at all!" He's flung out of the pit by the shovel on his back, since that sticks up the most of any part of him, and he hits one of the walls with a 'clang'. If Rodimus Prime keeps up this casually abusive streak, he'll be a commander in no time flat! Rodimus Prime intends that, oh yes. He fully intends that. He straightens and shrugs, smiling faintly. "Why not? It goes with the optics a lot better, after all," he points out, tapping his face right beneath his optics. Scrapper grumbles, "Shut up, purple is traditional. It's good enough for Constructicons, it's good enough for Shockwave, it's good enough for Galvatron, and it'll be good enough for you! But now... toss Captain Americon into the wheel, and let's see how this baby works when it really gets spinning." Robotic Bald Eagle looks down at his chest, and makes a sad face. "I don't wanna have a red symbol!" he whines. "Listen, I wasn't /asking/ for a red symbol," Rodimus answers, snorting in annoyance. "I'm just saying I like this color scheme better over all, was all." Rodimus is totally enforcing red Decepticon symbols when he usurps leadership from Galvatron. The former Autobot leader attempts to pluck Americon off his shoulder and toss him towards the wheel. "There you go," he says. Combat: Rodimus Prime misses Robotic Bald Eagle with his Roulette Wheel of DOOM (Grab) attack! Robotic Bald Eagle fidgets away from Rodimus's hand! "CAW CAW CAW!" he cries, wings flapping furiously. Rodimus Prime shouts after Americon, "Not much of a volunteer, are you?" Scrapper hollers at Americon, "Get in the roulette wheel! Don't make me come after you!" He shakes a fist and slowly picks himself up from where Rodimus Prime tossed him into a wall. Oh well, at least they hadn't painted the place yet. Robotic Bald Eagle blinks, realizing what he did wrong. "Oh, right, sorry. Bird instincts kick in when I'm in bird mode!" He perches back on Rodimus's shoulder and doesn't move this time. Rodimus Prime grins. He expected Americon to just land in the wheel, but he doesn't mind the chance for another throw! He grabs hold of Americon, winds up like a baseball pitcher, and toss Americon into the roulette wheel! Bonecrusher finishes the other wheel and climbs up out of it to have a look at this. He wouldn't want to miss seeing the new death trap / gambling machine in action for the first time! Robotic Bald Eagle is tossed towards the wheel, and transforms mid-hurl into Captain Americon. He holds the shield out in front of himself, perhaps hoping it will protect him from the horrible fate awaiting him. Scrapper is a bit disturbed by how much Rodimus Prime enjoys throwing Americon around. I mean, don't they all? But it's still spooky how quickly he caught on. Scrapper watches as Americon rolls around and around and finally lands on... 5. Scrapper looks downcast. "That's a safe spot. Oh well. Crank the wheel and try it again!" "I'll do it!" Rodimus exclaims happily, approaching the giant-sized wheel. he grasps the edge and then spins it as quickly as he can. "See you 'round, Americon!" he laughs. Robotic Bald Eagle rolls to a safe spot, looking almost like an American-themed ball with that shield. However, he is soon sent tumbling around the roulette wheel once again! "Weeee!" Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! "My money's on black!" exclaims Bonecrusher, perhaps forgetting for the moment that he doesn't get paid. The wheel spins round and round and lands on... ZERO. Dun dun dun! The trapdoor springs open, revealing the spike pit beneath. Will Captain Americon's shield save him? Will he remember that he has anti-gravs? Tune in, after a message from our sponsors. Kremzeek Cola! Now made with 100% weapons-grade-plutonium-derived energon, still safer than high fructose corn syrup! And back to our show... And the answer is no and no! "Argh!" Americon cries from inside the pit, though it's hard to see how horribly mangled he is, given he appears to have landed shield-side out. Bonecrusher leans over the rail shaking a fist excitedly. But did he land on red or black, that's the question! The zero is green. Lime green. Bonecrusher slaps his hand down on the railing, bending it slightly. "Yes! Who's got two thumbs and is getting a shiny new ripper attachment? THIS GUY!" Turning back and forth he makes sure everyone sees him pointing his thumbs at himself. Rodimus Prime kneels on the edge of the pit, then he reaches down and plucks Americon out. He looks over the cassette and considers the other's injuries, setting the triple-changer down on the deck. He inspects the wounds, perhaps bringing to mind the fact that he is actually a medic, too. Finally, he declares sadly, "I'm afraid we'll have to amputate." Then he replaces his hand with the whirring buzzsaw and grins. Captain Americon lies there on the floor, punctured in multiple places. There's even a hole in his skull. "Hurgh urgh rugh urgh gurgh!" he replies to Rodimus, not in much of a position to argue. Scrapper politely claps for Bonecrusher and suggests mildly, "Very good, maybe get a REALLY BIG ripper so that Devastator can use it, too." Then, he raises an optical ridge as Rodimus Prime cheerily launches into full-blow Sadistic Medic mode on Captain Americon. "...huh. I guess on the job learning really works?" "Need another hand, Scrapper?" Rodimus asks happily as he lowers the buzzsaw to just over Americon's arm, close enough to perhaps (painfully) grind off the top layer of paint in one narrow strip... and then he replaces the buzzsaw with his hand and /beams/. "Naw, just kidding, Americon!" he says before reaching down and doing what repairs he can manage on the spot. Things like armor and whatnot will probably be need medical. Captain Americon lies there, gurgling a bit as he watches the saw approach his arm. He doesn't move a bit... and then he transforms into eagle mode and sits up on the floor. "That wasn't very nice, Evil Rodimus!" he grumps, apparently able to talk now that he switched heads. Rodimus Prime beams. "Awwww! Whassa matter, Americon? Can't take a joke?" He leans back and shrugs. "I thought we weren't restricted by 'nice' around here." Scrapper sighs as Rodimus Prime doesn't actually chop off Americon's arm. He shakes his head sadly and mutters, "So much wasted potential in the lad." "Maybe he should get a new name. And be painted black," Bonecrusher suggests. "That might encourage his follow-through." Rodimus Prime glares at Bonecrusher and starts to stand. "My name and my paint job are /just/ fine, Bonecrusher," he snarls, once more switching his hand for the buzzsaw. "But if you /want/ follow through, I can give yuou follow through." "Ease down, Big Red," Bonecrusher replies, making the universal ease-down gesture with his hands. "Just an idea." Captain Americon scratches under his beak with a feather. "Hm, that is true! Well, then, I guess I will have to get you back... somehowwww!" He gives Rodimus the Evil Eagle look as ominous music plays in the background. Rodimus Prime is very vain. He's pretty vain as an Autobot - you don't have a paint job like his if you aren't at least a little vain - but as a Decepticon, it seems to be even worse. But when Bonecrusher says 'ease down', he relaxes, brings his hand back, and looks down at Captain Americon. "Try it, short stuff." Captain Americon sits there for a moment, squinting. "...Well, not *right away.* Maybe later. I dunno."
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