Datapad Dilemmia

Mess Hall

The elevator deposits you in the second floor of Debris, the Mess Hall. While not needing to consume food, Cybertronians do require refueling and recharging ... as well as relaxation and recuperation from active duty. The Mess Hall is that place in Debris, the catchall room for lounge, bar, and social gathering. It's a long rectangular shaped abode, tables lining the far wall with a random assortment of table top games, magazines, and energon dispensers.

Hung from the ceiling is a four sides LCD screened television set, constantly switching over the news reports from the universe, unless someone actually affixes the channel to something specific. Across the bottom is a tiny scrolling text box, which makes up-to-the-hour announcements about Autobot activities.

Debris, the underground fortress of the Wrecker's making.. current hideout for any and all Autobot ground forces on Cybertron, as the Decepticons have retaken the planet and had their way with it. While the notion doesn't sit well with any Autobot, it's one they must bear nonetheless.

A white figure creeps into the Mess Hall of the base, keeping to the edges of the room. When he's completely satisfied none are here, Specter leans forward and briskly walks up to a table. Plopping down into a seat, the operative takes out an old datapad that's seen better days. Placing it on the table, he takes out another.. one much more advanced and undamaged than the last, and turns it around in his hands a couple of times.

"Design, puzzling." Specter muses to himself.

Sit-Com finds himself on Cybertron with Specter. It had been somewhat uneventful on Junk, so here he is! He plays spooky theremin music on his wrist-TV.

Or is that the 1976 Scooby Doo cartoon?

Torque wasn't one to often visit Cybertron, though it was the best place to scavange. She'd subspace a few pieces and pack away more for transport once outside the hidden Autobot base. The tired femme scuffles inside, making sure she wasn't followed, and quickly bee-lines to the mess hall for a drink. "Huh, looks like I won't be alone today." She muses thoughtfully after stepping through the doors, noting Specter and Sit-Com. "You mechs do anything interesting today?" She smirks cheekily and makes her way to the energon tank, getting herself a drink before sidling into a chair across from Specter.

Specter perks up from his study to see not one, but two intruders in the Mess Hall. And just when he thought he'd have some time to himself, like usual. "No, nothing of note whatsoever." he offers, turning his attention back to the datapad. Grasping it between his hands, the operative attempts to flip up the screen cover.

"Open, damn it.. open."

Torque's anttenae perk forward while she's in mid-sip of her energon, noting the difficulting of the datapad. Maybe he needed more strength? "You uh.. need some help?" She questions while placing her drink on the table and gripping the brim of her hat, tilting it up a little to clear her view.

"Can't deal with that now?" Sit-Com says to Specter. Noting that what he's saying mimics what another Autobot once said about trying to open something. He turns when he hears Torque enter. "Evenin', ma'am," he says in a perfect John Wayne voice, to the newcomer. "Don't believe I've had the pleasure. The name's Sit-Com." He extends his hand.

"Strength, not the issue." Specter replies harshly to Torque, flinging the datapad on the tabletop. If anyone with even a decent knowledge of technology had assessed the device, they would have concluded that the slide button is afixed to it's side.

Torque looks somewhat taken aback at the ninja's nasty tone, her lips drawing thin before she looks to the datapad and scoops it up gingerly. "Tch, chill out. It's just a pad." She snorts softly at Specter before being interupted by the deep voice of John Wayne. Anttenae twitch up as she turns to the voice to see a hand outstretched before her. "Sit-Com? Heh, nice t' meetcha. Name's Torque. Funny, don't see many Junkions on Cybertron." The femme smirks, shaking Sit-Com's hand, soon afterwards giving the datapad a quick slide and flick open before setting it before Specter. "You're welcome." She says teasingly with a smirk.

Sit-Com's voice now takes on the sound of a National Geographic narrator. "Every fall, the Junkions migrate to Cyberton." He looks over at what Specter is doing. "Need a little elbow grease?"

Taken aback by the casual demeanor Torque displays, Specter hangs his head in thought while snatching up the datapad. Navigating to the main menu, he pauses for a moment. "Many thanks, Torque. Designation.. Specter." he huffs out, obviously confused by the newer pad's layout.

"Pleasure to make your.. acquaintance." the albino Autobot adds in.

"S'no problem. The newer tech can be annoying sometimes. So what're you two doin' all the way out here? Recon?" She leans back in her seat a bit, picking up her drink again and taking a few more sips.

"I am.. awaiting personal orders from Intel division heads, pertaining to mission parameters." Specter replies, still fidgeting with the datapad. Someone should probably lend a hand.

"Sit-Com, however.. most likely has his own mission designation." he offers, glancing at the Junkion over his shoulder.

"Mission Designation?" Sit-Com wonders, "My mission designation is to cheer up this gloomy place with the Joy of Television." He points to his wrist-TV.

Torque smirks at Sit-Com's 'mission', teasing some more as she says, "Tv, hm? Maybe you could try and cheer up Specter here. As for me, I'm gonna go dig up some more scrap. Catch you mechs later." She stands, finishing her drink off before heading out the door with a wave.

Sit-Com waves. "Later," he says.

"Good.. hunting." Specter offers, before her sudden departure. Turning his attention back down to the datapad, he flicks it around in a circle on the table while supporting his head in his other hand.

"Designation Sit-Com, are you familiar with such designs?"

Sit-Com peers at the datapad and scratches his head. "Let me see," he says.

"Oh yes, a Datapadd," he says, "Now you work it like this." He pushes a few buttons and calls up the menu screen.

Leaning over to take in the direct and precise actions, Specter raises a hand to his head. "Are all our advancements in thechnology as confusing as.. this?" he questions, storing away the tiny tid-bit for practice later on.