This HTML5 document contains 11 embedded RDF statements represented using HTML+Microdata notation.

The embedded RDF content will be recognized by any processor of HTML5 Microdata.

Subject Item

n2:

rdfs:label

Gotta Hand It To You

rdfs:comment

The science sector of the Absolution is a sterile, cold space in which all manner of technomacabre experiments occur behind sealed doors. Thick, clear walls quarantine necessary areas, bridged by corridors with lit walkways. Unless the holoscreens are up, anyone walking through the area can see into any of the lab spaces -- some might prove utterly boring, and some might contain sights that cannot be unseen. The workspaces are largely soundproofed, rendering the walkways almost eerily quiet, save for the footsteps of others and the occasional hisses of doors. Obvious exits: Fleet has arrived.

n6:

Mindwipe does an impromptu palm reading for Fleet.

n8:

Headmasters

n3:wikiPageUsesTemplate

n4:

n9:

Gotta Hand It To You

n10:

n11: n12:

n7:

2030

n5:

Laboratories, Absolution

n14:abstract

The science sector of the Absolution is a sterile, cold space in which all manner of technomacabre experiments occur behind sealed doors. Thick, clear walls quarantine necessary areas, bridged by corridors with lit walkways. Unless the holoscreens are up, anyone walking through the area can see into any of the lab spaces -- some might prove utterly boring, and some might contain sights that cannot be unseen. The workspaces are largely soundproofed, rendering the walkways almost eerily quiet, save for the footsteps of others and the occasional hisses of doors. External ship broadcasts for this room are ON Type +shiphelp for help Obvious exits: Fleet has arrived. Mindwipe is bustling about the laboratories, a slight frown on his face. It feels good to be off the Hellbender, which was a bit run-down, to be honest. He supposes they'll need to get the old girl up and running soon enough. Ships aren't exactly his specialty, but he reckons that the Hellbender isn't totaled yet. After his tour of the laboratory facilities on the Hellbender, he is forced to comment, "Needs more incense and pentagrams. Also a better biology section. Hmph." Fleet is here on standard patrol. He likes standard patrols. They make him seem like more of a standard trooper, which he isn't these days. They also keep him in better touch with his surroundings, which may be useful now that he's in a position that someone might want to assassinate him over. The cool-running Seeker steps in just in time to catch this last comment from Mindwipe, eliciting a confused frown. "Incense and pentagrams?" he asks, genuinely baffled. Mindwipe seems to notice Fleet for the first time. Seekers are forgettable. Mindwipe claps his hands together and insists, "Oh, yes! Incense is very helpful for subtlety blocking unwanted radiation and energy fields. Ever seen a smoke detector, hmm? Little radioactive element and a sensor to pick up the radiation. When smoke blocks the signal, it goes off!" "Yes, but... doesn't it get into other things as well?" Fleet asks, confused. "The scent clings. That suggests something's got to be sticking to something." He studies Mindwipe up and down, then tilts his head. "I haven't seen you around." Mindwipe rather stinks of both incense and solder. He waves a hand dismissively. "Of course the smell sticks! That's part of the point. If you don't smell like a robot, malignant spirits are more likely to pass you by. Also, scent is such an... ignored sense. The perfect sense to deceive." He grins ghoulishly, looking Fleet over. "Spirits are more attracted to robots?" Fleet asks rather doubtfully. "Why's that?" He notes that the other hasn't responded to his mention on how he hadn't seen him around, and decides that he's likely one of Scorponok's. Mindwipe adds, absently, "And you would need to be a seer to have seen me around lately. I am Count Mindwipe, of the recently fallen Hellbender." His attention span is a bit erratic. He chides, "Robot spirits are attracted to robots! Of course, Nebulan spirits who were murdered by Decepticons in life might haunt us, but most organic spirits have little reason to vex us." "Erm, right," Fleet answers uncertainly. "Well, Scrapper's the one to talk to for lab design modifications, anyway. I can't really help you with that." He pauses. "My name is Fleet, by the way. Standard Seeker." Oh, he lies... Mindwipe notes coolly, "Don't lie to me." Does he mystically know that Fleet is lying? Did he just read the roster after he stumbled aboard the Absolution? One of these is probably true, but Mindwipe likes the other better. "It is most inadvisable. Scrapper, hmm? I suppose so. I remember when he was a neutral architect, working on Crystal City. Folly, that. More folly that it was rebuilt." "Well, mostly standard," which is the truth, as far as Fleet is concerned. Rebuilds from semi-supernatural beings not withstanding. "And why's that? About Crystal City, I mean?" Mindwipe throws his hands in his air and explains, "Why, have you never considered the crystal resonances off that place? The whole place may as well be /cursed/. It is a shining beacon to all spiritual forces. Honestly." He shakes his head. Mindwipe remarks sarcastically, "They make standard Aerospace Executive Officers, these days? I had no idea the skills were so replicable. Show me your hand, Fleet." "You wouldn't think so, and yet Americon and Blueshift were both serious contenders for the position," Fleet replies, not responding to the bit about crystal resonances mostly because it makes no sense to him. He looks confused when Mindwipe demands to see his hand, then holds it up, in sort of a 'hi' gesture without the wave. Mindwipe narrows his optics and attempts to grab Fleet's hand, so that he can see the palm. He murmurs, "So they might have been, and yet here you are, but what path did you have to take to get here? The journey is often more interesting than the destination. Blame not Cybertron, if you find her poor, when she has sent you to so many worlds." Fleet's optics flicker in suprise as his hand is grabbed. He sighs and straightens his arm, letting Mindwipe manhandle his hand, and shrugs. "Path? Reluctant." Mindwipe tries to lightly run a finger over the metal creases, weld lines, and scratches on Fleet's hand, hmming to himself thoughtfully. He agrees, "I see that. Your life line is... very curious, you know that? You see, it... stops here. As if you died. But it starts again! And then... stops. And then continues on again for a good long time." He looks over at Fleet curiously. Palm reading may be illogical for giant robots who can change their hands, but trying to contact the dead via radio towers doesn't make much sense, either. Fleet instinctively wiggles his hand, more in reaction at the light touches, then peers over. "Well, I, erm, did die twice." He pauses. "After the second one, it goes on for a long time? How long?" Mindwipe completely ignores Fleet's question at the end, because he is much, much more interested in what Fleet said first. He exclaims, "You died twice? By the fires of The Fallen! What do you remember about it? What was it like? How did you obtain entry back into the world of the living?" Mindwipe is all about trying to contact the dead, and this Seeker has died /twice/? Fleet tries to snatch his hand away, his optics wide. "/WHAT/ did you say?" he exclaimed, a touch of alarm touching the edge of his voice. Mindwipe is used to terrifying people, but right now, he can't quite figure out what it is he did that has alarmed this curious Seeker so. He tilts his head to the side and hazards, "Ah, I asked what death was like, for you. You see, I am a mystic. It is my greatest desire to learn from the mistakes of the dead so that I don't make them." "No, before that," Fleet demands, rubbing his hand as though he were worried it might fall off. "Why did you invoke the Fallen?" Mindwipe looks over at Fleet's hand thoughtfully, shrugs, and opines a bit cryptically, "I thought it was a fitting imprecation, at the time." Perhaps it is Sunday and Sunday is a good day to invoke The Fallen. Perhaps there is more than Mindwipe is letting on to the Seeker. Fleet leans forward, optics narrowed suspiciously. "How'd you even /know/ of him?" he asks. "He'd been pretty much forgotten about in this end of the war." Much like, well, Scorponok himself. Didn't Mindwipe already say he is a mystic? This Seeker is slow to catch on! So he says again, "Please, Fleet. I am a mystic. It is my business to know forgotten lore, so that it can be held in a living mind and not merely rattle around the galaxy as karmic vibration." Also, the Black, White, and Grey Books are all on public display in the bases around here. Mindwipe literally lost his head when he saw that! Luckily, his head goes back on pretty easily. Mystics are rare enough in Transformer society that Fleet simply doesn't know what all that entails! Still, he seems to settle down a little. He glances around the room, then looks back at Mindwipe. "The first time I died, I was murdered by Scrapper during a training session. He brought me back to a form of semi-life for awhile, before bringing me back completely." This is the truth as Fleet knows it, and even if he wasn't truly dead... well, apparently he was dead enough for it to show on his palm. "The second time... the second time, my ship crashed during a scouting mission in the Medusa Cascade." Belief is more important than reality, if the belief is strong enough. How else could a little bauble defeat Unicron? Mindwipe grins and remarks airily, "Oh, an experimentalist these days, is Scrapper? Then he won't mind at all the, hrm, modifications I require of these laboratories." Mindwipe is starting to get an idea of just why Fleet reacted so badly when Mindwipe invoked The Fallen earlier. It doesn't take a mental giant to link the Medusa Cascade to, "...the belly of Medusa." "I died. I went to the Underverse. The Dead Universe. I was resurrected by the Fallen and... the one he served," Fleet answers firmly. Once more, it's entirely possible that his laser core wasn't technically extinguished, but going to hell and having one's mind reprogrammed by the Devil and one's body remade by the Devil's general is about as close to true death as most get. Mindwipe is so jealous of Fleet right now. His optics flash with envy, he snaps his fingers in frustration, and he stomps a foot on the floor petulantly. He exclaims, "You must be the luckiest Seeker alive!" He clasps his hands together and pleads, "What was it like? The Dead Universe, The Fallen, and..." he trails off meaningfully. Fleet eyes Mindwipe warily. "I'm the luckiest Seeker just to /be/ alive at this point," he answers, then shrugs. "I don't really have words for a lot of it." He pauses a moment. "We do still have the Invictus, though..." Mindwipe is one to be eyed warily, to be certain. He muses, "Invictus? As in Sol Invictus, the unconquered sun? What an odd name for a ship belonging to the forces of darkness. Then again, the universe does have a sense of humour." With urgency, Mindwipe asks, "Where is it now?" "New Crystal City," Fleet answers. "But I'm the primary pilot. Most the other Decepticons find it creepy." "As well they should! Tell me, was this Invictus actually forged by the forces of darkness, or was it merely corrupted, do you know?" Mindwipe has found a new toy! In a few short days, he has seen and heard more downright fascinating things than he did in a million years of his exile. For exile it was. Fleet shrugs both arms. "I don't know. I just drove it." He pauses. "It used to be on fire, but that stopped when Vector Z was destroyed. Now it just has holographic fire." Mindwipe rubs his chin as he considers the answer. A mystery! Luckily, mystics love mysteries and appreciate them for what they are: terribly mysterious. He inquires, "What does it look like? Does it handle differently than normal shuttles? How does it /smell/?" Fleet rubs the back of his head. "I'm not sure words really do it justice, as far as appearance goes. Smells mostly of dead metal. It handles all right, though, although all the bodies occasionally do weird things to the steering." Mindwipe coos, "Of, course, of course! I must see it." He steeples his fingers in anticipation. Mindwipe then thinks about what Fleet just said and asks, "Bodies?" Fleet nods, shrugging one shoulder. "Yes. It's got a number of bodies attached all over through... various means. They interfere with aerodynamics something awful, which is really only a problem inside of the atmosphere, but I do have to pilot the ship there sometimes." Mindwipe considers that, Vorath's scientific mind surfacing to consider the topic of aerodynamics and drag. Making some odd hand gestures as he runs the calculations mentally, he murmurs, "Oh my. Yes. I suppose it would. Still, it has a certain aesthetic quality about it, doesn't it?" "That depends on your sense of aesthetics, I'm sure," Fleet answers, shrugging one shoulder. He looks about for his escape route... ah, to his back. Excellent. Mindwipe has horrible taste in decoration. He likes burgundy velvet with gaudy gold accents. Mindwipe also like hanging up beads made out of diodes and putting out the circuit boards of the dead. Then again, he is a pinky-purple Decepticon who turns into a bat. Any chance he had of having any fashion sense was doomed when he was created. "Oh yes. You've never been on the Hellbender. I suppose I ought to speak with Scrapper about its salvage." "Probably," Fleet agrees. He hesitates. "So if there's nothing else, I should get back to work." Mindwipe notes, "There is always something else, Fleet. However, I have nothing for you and yours at the moment." Fleet shouldn't be too startled if Mindwipe tracks him down later, however. A Seeker who has died twice and yet lived to tell the tale is entirely too interesting for his own good. Worse than the curse to live in interesting times is the curse to /be/ interesting, but Fleet, for his part, will take this over being dead and /staying/ that way. The Seeker inclines his head in polite good-bye, turns, and heads out. Perhaps walking a /bit/ quickly. Fleet has left.