WhipDing
734
Transformers: A New World
capMARVELOUS
Kazig
Xale
Steel Accord
-
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Fandom Transformers (IDW)
- Thread starter WhipDing
- Start date
capMARVELOUS
Kazig
Xale
Steel Accord
WhipDing
734
Melody
Melody flew silently through the air, looking down on the city streets. As per usual, he'd spent the best part of the day resting in the room he'd been so graciously given, but, for a flyer, it was just... stifling. When one was blessed with such an elegant form, it seemed cruel to deny himself to use it for so long. He could imagine how terrible it would be to be a truck, or a car, or a projector. How did bots live like that? Tied to the ground?
He was still relatively new to the area, having only recently finished his probation period after his trial. Perhaps it was time to become familiar with this place a little more. His keen optics scanned the ground, looking for anything interesting. Eventually, he found his target, coming to a dead stop over what appeared to be a bar.
Melody flew silently through the air, looking down on the city streets. As per usual, he'd spent the best part of the day resting in the room he'd been so graciously given, but, for a flyer, it was just... stifling. When one was blessed with such an elegant form, it seemed cruel to deny himself to use it for so long. He could imagine how terrible it would be to be a truck, or a car, or a projector. How did bots live like that? Tied to the ground?
He was still relatively new to the area, having only recently finished his probation period after his trial. Perhaps it was time to become familiar with this place a little more. His keen optics scanned the ground, looking for anything interesting. Eventually, he found his target, coming to a dead stop over what appeared to be a bar.
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Ecumen
“All right, bring her up!” Shouted the fore-bot. Ecumen fired up his carbon nanotube muscles and stepped forward, pulling the cable tied to him taught and lifting the component piece off the ground. The support beam leaned forward and partially opened, accepting its addition. Ecumen took a few gentle steps back, lowering the component on to the beam. “Release!” The cable came loose. The component attached itself to the support and unfolded, transforming into a new highway suspension with ground floor elevator access. The bots around have an applause to themselves for their work and Ecumen let out a trumpet blast from his trunk. “All right. That’s enough for today.” The forebot dismissed everyone.
Flapping his ears and shaking his head, Ecumen started at a slow pace to home. He spied a couple of his co-workers going into McAdams Old Oil House, a bar that had been highly recommended to him. While such a scene was usually not his to partake, Ecumen admitted that curiosity had perked his interest. That and Bric and Brac had returned to Junkion so he had spent a cycle without his best and oldest friends. He was a bit lonely.
Transforming back to his primary mode, Ecumen squeezed his way into the bar, intending to simply scope things out and maybe grab a drink before heading home.
“All right, bring her up!” Shouted the fore-bot. Ecumen fired up his carbon nanotube muscles and stepped forward, pulling the cable tied to him taught and lifting the component piece off the ground. The support beam leaned forward and partially opened, accepting its addition. Ecumen took a few gentle steps back, lowering the component on to the beam. “Release!” The cable came loose. The component attached itself to the support and unfolded, transforming into a new highway suspension with ground floor elevator access. The bots around have an applause to themselves for their work and Ecumen let out a trumpet blast from his trunk. “All right. That’s enough for today.” The forebot dismissed everyone.
Flapping his ears and shaking his head, Ecumen started at a slow pace to home. He spied a couple of his co-workers going into McAdams Old Oil House, a bar that had been highly recommended to him. While such a scene was usually not his to partake, Ecumen admitted that curiosity had perked his interest. That and Bric and Brac had returned to Junkion so he had spent a cycle without his best and oldest friends. He was a bit lonely.
Transforming back to his primary mode, Ecumen squeezed his way into the bar, intending to simply scope things out and maybe grab a drink before heading home.
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Kazig
Member
Scrounge
Scrounge hurried down the streets of the city, occasionally picking the more interesting-looking pieces of junk off the ground and placing them into his bag. He had collected a variety broken gizmos, bits of scrap... body parts. As strange and wonderful as it is to finally have a house, Scrounge knew he couldn't just stay there all day. He knew he needed to do something now that the war's ended and making something from junk is one of his few skills. It was nice doing the same sort of thing he used to do back before everyone wanted to murder everyone else. That being said, he did not feel comfortable inside this city. It's been a while since he's lived in a city so his intuition might be a little rusty, but he's pretty sure that he's in an area where he's statistically likely to get mugged. He knew he didn't have anything actually worth stealing but he sure wasn't going to take his time getting home.
Scrounge hurried down the streets of the city, occasionally picking the more interesting-looking pieces of junk off the ground and placing them into his bag. He had collected a variety broken gizmos, bits of scrap... body parts. As strange and wonderful as it is to finally have a house, Scrounge knew he couldn't just stay there all day. He knew he needed to do something now that the war's ended and making something from junk is one of his few skills. It was nice doing the same sort of thing he used to do back before everyone wanted to murder everyone else. That being said, he did not feel comfortable inside this city. It's been a while since he's lived in a city so his intuition might be a little rusty, but he's pretty sure that he's in an area where he's statistically likely to get mugged. He knew he didn't have anything actually worth stealing but he sure wasn't going to take his time getting home.
capMARVELOUS
Yeah
BEACHCOMBER
"Beachcomber! Wake up!"
Rewind's shout jolted Beachcomber out of his nap; in his brief surprise, he knocked a small stack of records off of the checkout counter. The little 'bot gave a yelp, and dived to pick them up, inspecting each one to make sure that it wasn't damaged. Thank Primus, none of them were; the packaging was nice and sturdy. Unfortunately his relief didn't seem to be shared by his boss, who stomped up to him, clearly trying to be angry, but her short stature made her anger seem adorable.
"You have got to stop taking naps while you're on the clock! It leaves a bad impression on the customers, and nothing ever gets done!" she whined, taking the records from Beachcomber and resetting them on the counter.
"What you perceive to be napping is merely you observing the physical frame at rest. You do not see the unfettered activity of the mind within, getting things done on its own," Beachcomber replied, very clearly drugged out of his head. A goofy grin spread across his face as he finished what he clearly thought was a deep philosophical statement.
Rewind put her head in her hands. "Whatever. Your shift's over, anyways. Go on home," she said wearily.
Beachcomber did so.
Home for him, for the moment, was in a dingy backalley close to the center of the Diamethes District. It had all the fine furnishings a homeless 'bot could ask for: a soft metal crate to sleep in, a trash can to hold his few meager belongings, and a series of overhead balconies to shelter him from the rain. He dug through his trash can, tossing aside actual trash that others had thrown into it, and found what he was looking for. Two bags, one containing a purple, powdery substance- Angolmois- and the other containing a small amount of shanix.
A portion of Angolmois went onto the broad edge of his thumb, then up his olfactory receptor, causing an intense, warm tingling feeling to spread throughout his frame. With the drug in his system, he ran his untainted fingers through the bag of shanix. He estimated that he had enough for one or two drinks down at the bar, maybe a lap-dance from Moonracer at the Bolt Factory. With this not-quite-a-plan firmly lodged in his head, he set out on his quest.
"Beachcomber! Wake up!"
Rewind's shout jolted Beachcomber out of his nap; in his brief surprise, he knocked a small stack of records off of the checkout counter. The little 'bot gave a yelp, and dived to pick them up, inspecting each one to make sure that it wasn't damaged. Thank Primus, none of them were; the packaging was nice and sturdy. Unfortunately his relief didn't seem to be shared by his boss, who stomped up to him, clearly trying to be angry, but her short stature made her anger seem adorable.
"You have got to stop taking naps while you're on the clock! It leaves a bad impression on the customers, and nothing ever gets done!" she whined, taking the records from Beachcomber and resetting them on the counter.
"What you perceive to be napping is merely you observing the physical frame at rest. You do not see the unfettered activity of the mind within, getting things done on its own," Beachcomber replied, very clearly drugged out of his head. A goofy grin spread across his face as he finished what he clearly thought was a deep philosophical statement.
Rewind put her head in her hands. "Whatever. Your shift's over, anyways. Go on home," she said wearily.
Beachcomber did so.
Home for him, for the moment, was in a dingy backalley close to the center of the Diamethes District. It had all the fine furnishings a homeless 'bot could ask for: a soft metal crate to sleep in, a trash can to hold his few meager belongings, and a series of overhead balconies to shelter him from the rain. He dug through his trash can, tossing aside actual trash that others had thrown into it, and found what he was looking for. Two bags, one containing a purple, powdery substance- Angolmois- and the other containing a small amount of shanix.
A portion of Angolmois went onto the broad edge of his thumb, then up his olfactory receptor, causing an intense, warm tingling feeling to spread throughout his frame. With the drug in his system, he ran his untainted fingers through the bag of shanix. He estimated that he had enough for one or two drinks down at the bar, maybe a lap-dance from Moonracer at the Bolt Factory. With this not-quite-a-plan firmly lodged in his head, he set out on his quest.
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Ecumen
The large transformer entered the bar. Bots and Cons lined the walls both with a prominent "NO FIGHTING!" holo sign displayed above the bar. He made his way over to the bar and ordered a cup of liquid energon. The bartender gave him something of an odd look but provided him with the clean substance. Ecumen was used to that. It was a rare Autobot veteran that abstained from the harder intakes entirely. Yet it was Ecumen's way. He was building a temple after all, he would treat his body as one as well. He made his way over to an empty booth and sat down, the booth expanding to accommodate his size as it did for all guests of varying builds. He sipped his cup and simply rocked to the music, taking in the atmosphere of the place. Trying to get into the groove.
. . . Wasn't working thus far.
The large transformer entered the bar. Bots and Cons lined the walls both with a prominent "NO FIGHTING!" holo sign displayed above the bar. He made his way over to the bar and ordered a cup of liquid energon. The bartender gave him something of an odd look but provided him with the clean substance. Ecumen was used to that. It was a rare Autobot veteran that abstained from the harder intakes entirely. Yet it was Ecumen's way. He was building a temple after all, he would treat his body as one as well. He made his way over to an empty booth and sat down, the booth expanding to accommodate his size as it did for all guests of varying builds. He sipped his cup and simply rocked to the music, taking in the atmosphere of the place. Trying to get into the groove.
. . . Wasn't working thus far.
Xale
Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Guy
Banditfang
Banditfang’s optics opened as his processor became aware of the beeping of the chrono-counter. Getting up off the bed frame Banditfang stretched out his arms, loosening up the motors inside. With a groan he walked over to the doorway of his bedroom, the motion sensor opening the barrier. From there Banditfang walked into the rest of his modest apartment.
Walking over to the refrigeration unit, Banditfang took a bar of chilled energon out of its door. Although he earned enough bits to afford more high end cuisine Banditfang had spent the whole war eating energon rations. Since then that was all he craved. Upon ingesting the energon bar he turned on the holo-display in the centre of the room. It was set to the Iacon News Network, a channel more baffling than informative. Banditfang chuckled as they played another story about Autobot and Decepticon unity.
“There’s no unity here in Diamethes,” muttered Banditfang.
He was quite aware of how privileged he was compared to most of his former brothers-in-arms. Banditfang, what with his steady security job, was the exception to what most Decepticons in this neighbourhood could expect. Most businesses wouldn’t hire a former follower of Megatron, after all the war was there fault wasn’t it? Banditfang didn’t really care about the war now, it was over and there was no changing that.
The chrono-counter on the holo-display showed that it was still a while before he was due for his shift. Deciding to not just sit home and watch trashy holo-dramas, Banditfang figured he would go out on the town. The lies of unity had left a bad taste in his gustation sensors, so he decided he should clear the taste with a drink. Banditfang then picked up his gun out of the wall rack it was on. He never went anywhere without and he had a licence to carry so the Autobot security officers could eat slag.
As he took the elevator down to the main floor he looked down at the neighbourhood. He figured he was the only Decepticon in it. It wasn’t for another ten cycles that he saw a fellow Decepticon, a beat up seeker missing his legs, panhandling for a few credits. Banditfang walked past him, having no sympathy for the week. Another cycle later and Banditfang spotted McAdam’s Old Oil House, a decent enough bar. The owner, who may or may not be McAdam, was friendly to all factions and the place rarely had fights.
Banditfang approached the barkeep, “A mug of Nebulon ale.”
Banditfang’s optics opened as his processor became aware of the beeping of the chrono-counter. Getting up off the bed frame Banditfang stretched out his arms, loosening up the motors inside. With a groan he walked over to the doorway of his bedroom, the motion sensor opening the barrier. From there Banditfang walked into the rest of his modest apartment.
Walking over to the refrigeration unit, Banditfang took a bar of chilled energon out of its door. Although he earned enough bits to afford more high end cuisine Banditfang had spent the whole war eating energon rations. Since then that was all he craved. Upon ingesting the energon bar he turned on the holo-display in the centre of the room. It was set to the Iacon News Network, a channel more baffling than informative. Banditfang chuckled as they played another story about Autobot and Decepticon unity.
“There’s no unity here in Diamethes,” muttered Banditfang.
He was quite aware of how privileged he was compared to most of his former brothers-in-arms. Banditfang, what with his steady security job, was the exception to what most Decepticons in this neighbourhood could expect. Most businesses wouldn’t hire a former follower of Megatron, after all the war was there fault wasn’t it? Banditfang didn’t really care about the war now, it was over and there was no changing that.
The chrono-counter on the holo-display showed that it was still a while before he was due for his shift. Deciding to not just sit home and watch trashy holo-dramas, Banditfang figured he would go out on the town. The lies of unity had left a bad taste in his gustation sensors, so he decided he should clear the taste with a drink. Banditfang then picked up his gun out of the wall rack it was on. He never went anywhere without and he had a licence to carry so the Autobot security officers could eat slag.
As he took the elevator down to the main floor he looked down at the neighbourhood. He figured he was the only Decepticon in it. It wasn’t for another ten cycles that he saw a fellow Decepticon, a beat up seeker missing his legs, panhandling for a few credits. Banditfang walked past him, having no sympathy for the week. Another cycle later and Banditfang spotted McAdam’s Old Oil House, a decent enough bar. The owner, who may or may not be McAdam, was friendly to all factions and the place rarely had fights.
Banditfang approached the barkeep, “A mug of Nebulon ale.”
WhipDing
734
Melody
The slim bot landed almost soundlessly in front of the bar, feet touching down first with finesse gained over thousands of years. He'd hardly had much experience with places like this - there wasn't much time for it in war-time, and even when there was, it felt dishonourable to him to engage in such activities. But now... well, now there was no harm at all in trying.
Sensory overload hit him like a truck as he walked in, dozens of separate conversations melding into an unintelligible buzz. Ugh. Turning down his audio receptors, he powered his way through to the bar itself, shooting a look at the barkeep to let them know he was waiting. As he did so, he surveyed the room, trying to tune out the background noise to pick out any interesting bots.
One immediately stood out - a particularly large Autobot who towered above everyone else here, which made the fact they were clearly uncomfortable even more obvious. They seemed to be sitting down alone, something that struck him as quite strange. He briefly considered joining them, but age-old conflict made him feel... uneasy about that idea. It was one thing being civil around them, but being friendly with them? Perhaps it was inevitable to happen one day, but today was not that day.
As luck would have it, another Decepticon took a stand next to Melody, one he didn't recognise, similarly ordering a drink. Much more appetising. After a brief wait, both of them received their choices - a pint of engex for him, and a mug of Nebulon ale for the stranger.
The slim bot landed almost soundlessly in front of the bar, feet touching down first with finesse gained over thousands of years. He'd hardly had much experience with places like this - there wasn't much time for it in war-time, and even when there was, it felt dishonourable to him to engage in such activities. But now... well, now there was no harm at all in trying.
Sensory overload hit him like a truck as he walked in, dozens of separate conversations melding into an unintelligible buzz. Ugh. Turning down his audio receptors, he powered his way through to the bar itself, shooting a look at the barkeep to let them know he was waiting. As he did so, he surveyed the room, trying to tune out the background noise to pick out any interesting bots.
One immediately stood out - a particularly large Autobot who towered above everyone else here, which made the fact they were clearly uncomfortable even more obvious. They seemed to be sitting down alone, something that struck him as quite strange. He briefly considered joining them, but age-old conflict made him feel... uneasy about that idea. It was one thing being civil around them, but being friendly with them? Perhaps it was inevitable to happen one day, but today was not that day.
As luck would have it, another Decepticon took a stand next to Melody, one he didn't recognise, similarly ordering a drink. Much more appetising. After a brief wait, both of them received their choices - a pint of engex for him, and a mug of Nebulon ale for the stranger.
Kazig
Member
Scrounge
Scrounge was beginning to think he was acting a little ridiculous. Almost every day since he had gotten here he had done the same three things: wake up, search the scrap heaps, and then run right back home. Despite the fact that nothing had ever actually gone wrong, here he was scurrying home as if he was going to get shot at any moment. "Well not today!" He thinks, "The War is over, I'm alive, I won. It's time to stop acting like I'm still in danger and actually celebrate." With this thought in mind he stops and looks around; the area feels a lot less sketchy the the one he had just left. Making up his mind, he takes a turn leading away from his house and begins his detour. He's going to McAdam's.
While it was nothing fancy McAdam's Oil House was much nicer then what Scrounge was expecting. Though loud, it wasn't completely chaotic, and the muisic was admittedly pretty nice. He orders himself a pint of engex and sits down at an empty table near the muisic speakers. As he drinks, almost subconsciously, one of his fingers pops open with a soft "click" and begins recording the song.
Scrounge was beginning to think he was acting a little ridiculous. Almost every day since he had gotten here he had done the same three things: wake up, search the scrap heaps, and then run right back home. Despite the fact that nothing had ever actually gone wrong, here he was scurrying home as if he was going to get shot at any moment. "Well not today!" He thinks, "The War is over, I'm alive, I won. It's time to stop acting like I'm still in danger and actually celebrate." With this thought in mind he stops and looks around; the area feels a lot less sketchy the the one he had just left. Making up his mind, he takes a turn leading away from his house and begins his detour. He's going to McAdam's.
While it was nothing fancy McAdam's Oil House was much nicer then what Scrounge was expecting. Though loud, it wasn't completely chaotic, and the muisic was admittedly pretty nice. He orders himself a pint of engex and sits down at an empty table near the muisic speakers. As he drinks, almost subconsciously, one of his fingers pops open with a soft "click" and begins recording the song.
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
It takes Scrounge a moment to realize the large Autobot was talking to him. "Uh, yeah. It's not not one I've heard before though. Um... I'm sorry, do I know you?
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
He shrugs, heavy clanking accompanying the motion.
“Maybe. I know you. Battle at Althithex. Rolling down a hill. Landed a Con right in the faceplate. Desperation move but an effective one.” He tapped the side of his head. “Got a good memory. Ecumen. I’ve seen you but we never properly met.”
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Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
"Well in that case it's nice to meet you, I'm Scrounge, and that is one hell of a memory you've got there. I can barely recall what happened in the later battles in the war, much less Althithex. They all started to feel the same to me after the first million years." He says, somewhat astounded.
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Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
“We all have our gifts. Nice to meet you formally Scrounge. Nice even to talk to someone. I came here as a recommendation. Don’t really have anyone with me. My closest friends are a Space-Bridge trip away.”
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
"Yeah, I don't know really many of the bots around here either." He says, "Anyway, have you been up to anything interesting lately? I haven't actually talked to anyone in a while so I'm kind of out of the loop on what's happening in the area."
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
“Well in my actual job. We just finished with a new superhighway just down the way.” Ecumen took a gentle sip of his drink.
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
Scrounge pauses to take a swig of his drink, something about that last sentence sounded off.
"First of all, nice handiwork, I've seen the highway and It looks pretty well put together. Second of all, your "actual job"? Do you have two jobs or something?"
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
Ecumen smiled. “Not a second job. It’s more of a hobby if you will. Or a vocation to be more precise.”
Kazig
Member
Scrounge puts down his drink and turns in his seat to fully face Ecumen.
"Wow, the sheer vagueness of that comment is almost impressive. But now you've got me curious, do you think you can elaborate on this "vocation" of yours?"
"Wow, the sheer vagueness of that comment is almost impressive. But now you've got me curious, do you think you can elaborate on this "vocation" of yours?"
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
“I was hoping I would. It’s a lonely task and I could use some help if anyone could spare the time.” He pulled out a little hologram projector and turned on the display. The image of a building appeared. Or to be more precise, the not yet finished framework of one. “It’s something I’ve been working on. A great temple to the 13 Primes. The likes of which used to be plentiful but were all destroyed.”
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
Scrounge puts on a thoughtful expression, "A temple huh? That's actually not a bad idea. I'm not not the religious type, but we all could definitely use a bit more unity right now. Well, seeing as I've got more spare time than I know what to do with, I could probably lend a hand if you need it. I'm probably not the sort of person you're looking for in this project, but I do have some experience with building things."
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
“Nonsense. You’re exactly the type of person I’m looking for. Everyone is.” He lowered his cup to toast with the smaller bot. “Till all are one.” He drank. “What about you Scrounge? What have you been up to since the peace?”
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
"Not much to be honest. Ever since the war ended and I got my house and badge, I haven't talked to anyone and haven't managed to find myself a job. I found some interesting bits of junk in the city's scrap heaps but other than that, nothing. I came to the bar tonight because I was looking for a change from the norm."
Steel Accord
One Thousand Club
Kazig
“And you found me. Primus works in mysterious ways. If you want I can put in a good work with my forebot. Get you a job helping us build.”
Kazig
Member
Steel Accord
"That would be great! Thanks you, please contact me if it works out." Scrounge finishes his drink and stands up, "Well, I can honestly say it's been great talking to you Ecumen, but I should probably get going. Be sure to call me if you need help on your project." He grabs his bag and begins to make his way out.
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