Crystal City Art Festival!

Summary: Crystal City celebrates its neutrality by showcasing the creations of Cybertron's citizens. Some of the art critics are MURDER, though.

Entertainment Sector

''An extension of the Emporium, the Entertainment Sector consists of a mixture of lofty towers and medium-sized buildings, constructed of the same indigo steel/titanium as the rest of the city. All of the buildings have aerial access on the upper floors for flyers, these landing platforms so thickly studded with glittering crystals as to glow in the dark, providing visibility for those who are landing at night. Most of the buildings are fairly nondescript, due to the lack of owners, but a few have been fitted out as casinos and bars to handle the expected influx of patrons. As usual, the city's trademark crystals sparkle from the buildings, the roadways, and the skyways, providing an ambient light of their own in addition to more traditional lighting.''

Perhaps to celebrate Omega Supreme's ousting of Ramjet and Blueshift's nefarious rule over Crystal City, the local citizenry have collaborated to have an arts celebration. Although it is nighttime, the entire city is abuzz with light and sound, directing, urging visitors to the Entertainmnent sector. The generous lighting from the city itself refracts in glorious cobalt and amethyst, while corner displays of liquid mercury ripple in time to samba-styled ten-step music.

Even Maccadam's has gotten in on the act with an open-air stall that is serving up the most popular blends of high-grade and standard-grade energon, complete with festive swirly straws. As for the artists themselves, some have set up inside the vendor stalls, displaying and selling their wares, and sometimes doing live demonstrations to their audiences' delight. Street performers wander through, providing interactive entertainment opportunities as well.

Darkwing was putting the finishing 'touches' on his art project. Which just so happened to be Dreadwind. In proper fashion for the pair, very little effort actually went into this. Darkwing had talked Hi-test into keeping his brother still for a few hours, not that it was really needed except to hold a parody-pose of 'The Thinker' with Dread holding his head in his hands, looking like he's given up on life. Well Dready normally looks that way anyhow. Though the most effort that went into this, was painting Dreadwind Broze, against his wishes of course. "Now you can't say I never involve you in anything..." He says as Windyshear walks over.

Dreadwind is here, though he doesn't know why, as if it wasn't bad enough being stuck on lonely sentry duty with no one but Hi-Test for company now he's been dragged here and painted and posed in such an uncomfortable position. Life just gets worse and worse for him, it's almost as if it is out to get him, "Great now i'm involved, it's not like i wanted to be, i never get a choice in anything, ever."

Windshear looks Dreadwind up and down and then chuckles, "Dread..." he just cant think of anything to say to that do he looks at Darkwing, "It looks good... have you considered what it will take to get that paint off?" he cant help but laugh a bit after that.

Fleet is in the midst of the tail end of his performance - a display of aerial doing dare, grace and beauty, that is both an awe inspiring show of combat skill and yet, somehow, incredibly wussy a the same time. This was a relatively short dance, having only started with four dancers, and as Fleet lands, he gives a casual wave to one of the other dancers, Pirouette, as the dark blue and gold Seeker departs. He turns towards Catechism, the third dancer, and asks, "Well, at least let me buy you a drink for helping out?" With those words, he turns and heads towards Maccadam's casually walking past the smoking, smoldering remains of the fourth dancer, Showboat, who had crashed out of the sky during the performance and is now a flaming ruin.

Jazz page um=My entrance pose is almost finished typing I will just make a slight adjustment.

Grapple appears to have his own little stand set up in a corner. The poor placement compared to other stands doesn't seem to bother him; in fact, the architect seems to be rather cheerful. The desktop appears to be covered in scale models of various buildings and monuments. There's even a small scale solar tower amongst the models and building samples. For the most part, Grapple seems to be waiting for people to wander over.

Powerglide stumbles out of Maccadam's with an oversized mug of energon grasped tightly in his hand. He appears to be having some trouble standing but manages to stay upright despite his level of intoxication. Tucked underneath his arm is a large leather portfolio which houses his most priceless pieces of artwork. "WOOO! ART IS AWESOME! I LOVE ART FESTIVALS!" He chugs down his enerbeer.

Jazz drives into the area with the bass boomin'...Upon seeing how crowded it is the car stops and transforms into the Autobot's culture lover and expert Jazz! Jazz takes a quick look around to see if he spots anyone else he knows. Nobody at first glance, he turns to Magnus "Quite a crowd...I am sure the citizens are happy with the change of admiinstration. Makes them less afraid to get involved in this sort of thing. Still I am honestly curious to explore some Decepticon culture."

Catechism looks heavily subdued, not her usual boisterous self at all. She is even moving differently than usual, lighter on her feet, more reactive, even twitchy, as lingering after-effect of the dance. Catechism is more scorched than either of the other two standing dancers, Pirouette and Fleet, though better off than poor Showboat there. She trails just a bit behind Fleet, as if she could hide behind him, despite being a cone taller than him. So sometime she grudglingy helps Fleet out with his wussy hobby when he needs a spare for a dance. (He has blackmail on her.) However, do it in public, above the neutral capitol over Cybertron? Now everyone is going to think this is /her/ stupid wussy hobby, too. She looks at Fleet suspiciously and asks, "Are you going to put chemical weapons or mind control drugs in it?"

Ultra Magnus follows behind Jazz, trying to 'chill' in the afterwave of his speaker system. Transforming right behind him, the car carrier kibble blinks out into subspace as the Autobot Commander rises in his 'Albinomus Prime' mode. One hand held up to his audio processor, fiddling with it "What?" Finely tuning the device to normality, Magnus saunters over towards a vendor and grabs two ener-brews. "Well, looks like things are in full-swing here..." he states, handing one of the drinks off to Jazz. "Hope no shenanigans take place."

Situated behind a picket fence of bombs and missiles, each festively colored in hella metal designs and witty sayings. A corrugated tin sheet with NOZEART scrawled on it in crimson red paint is perched jauntily across the top of the stall's frame. Fusillade pokes her head out as she sees Fleet and Catechism pass by, and gives a cheery, "WHOOOO that flight ROCKED!" at them, before quaffing the remains of her ener-light and return hooting at Powerglide. "PIT YEAH IT DOES! Check out these SKULLS! And EAGLES! And EAGLE SKULLS holding more SKULLS! And SKULLS with EAGLES flying out of their eyesockets!!"

"Hey I'll paint a nekkid Elita One on you!" Fusillade hawks her wares at Magnus.

Darkwing says, "Thanks. I've thought this over for a while. I had thought of submitting a blank canvas, and having it represent what our efforts will end up being for... But then I realized this would be more fun. For me, at least." He says with a slight chuckle. "Besides, you know how Dreadwind thanks no one ever pay attention to him and just leaves him alone. Now as a perice of art, he'll be the center of attention at an art show!" He luaghs louder, completely ingoring Dread's comments. He quirks an optic as Wind's question. "No, Not really. Not like he'll complain less if I hadn't have painted him. Besides it had to look like I put some work into this... Not that getting Dreadwind here or posing him wasn't any feat in and of itself...""

"I wasn't planning to," Fleet answers Catechism calmly, then pauses, looking up at her. "Why? Would you prefer it that way?" He passes by Grapple's display and pauses for a moment, tilts his head this way and that at the construction, then turns back towards Catechism and shakes his head. "Ugh, I could never develop a taste for Autobot architecture. Not made for the fliers in mind. He cringes at Fusillade's shouting and spins back towards her. "Uhm... thank you?" he offers nervously.

Why an arts festival required ener-beer, Grapple had no idea. Honestly, he thought it was a terrible idea; drunken endavors don't often match up with art. Thankfully, he's in a fairly safe little corner, a little further away from the beverage stand. Still, he gives the drunkards wary looks.

Dee-Kal is here alongside Grapple and possibly First Aid. She takes in her surroundings, looking up at the myriad structures and lights, optics aglow with awe and wonder at the various stands and displays.

Dreadwind sighs heavily at his predicament, "So they arrive already to gawk and jeer at the terrible position i am placed in, glimpsing at the indignities that are forever heaped upon me, each thinking they know, they understand, when the truth is far from it."

Catechism almost jumps as Fusillade says the flight rocked. Straxus, can't Catechism just go crawl under some corrugated sheet metal for a while until everyone forgets? She rubs the back of her helmet and glances away, mumbling. "Uh, thanks." Then, she looks over at Fleet and over at Fusillade, and a horribly devious expression crosses her face. Catechism suggests, "Belay the drink. C'mere and pose. I wish to pay Fusillade for some nose art."

Jazz tries his best poker face to hide his surprise at Magnus reflexe to immediately go for the brew and get this party started. Has Magnus decided to be 'cool'? This could be a great day indeed! Jazz accepts the ener-brew "Thanks Magnus. You can relax, I seriously doubt anyone will be pulling shenanigans." He hears Fusillade asking Magnus about the 'Nekkid Elita' art and holds back a chuckle "Still just because the Decepticons won't stir up trouble does not mean they will behave with class."

Shockwave has a booth! So there, all you naysayers who thought that Shockwave didn't know what art was. He knows what it is, he has encyclopedic knowledge of all known topics. Admittedly his own idea of what is artistically pleasing is a little... inaccessable. His booth is labelled 'THE HEXAGON: A SMALL DATASET OF AESTHETICALLY SATISFYING SAMPLES.' It seems to be full of photographs of hexagonal things, although not all of them are immediately recognizable. A low humming or buzzing sound can also be heard from the direction of his booth.

Windshear listens to Dark and then Dread and tilts his head slightly, "You know... the position you are stuck in matches perfectly what you are saying, Dread." He comments then looks around at the Autobots that have shown up. He doesnt do anything, it is neutral territory as it were. With that he glances around and nods at Fleet and Catechism. "I only saw the tail end of it but it was very nice." Windhear says to them, "I love sky dancing like that, its so cool. I bet you had a lot of fun didnt you Catechism?"

Darkwing says, "Yes! Right! Use that the gloom. Let the people know the truth. While they are gawking at you, you might as well go on about how terrible the universe is!" Darkwing says with a rather jovial luaghs. And then rememebers to put out the name of his 'masterpeice' which he rightfully calls 'The Complainer'."

Fleet is dragged towards Fusillade. His optics flicker brightly in an approximation of a blink. "What? Pose? Nose art? I don't need any nose art!" He offers Windshear a brief smile. He is not used to sky dancing not being dismissed as wussy! "Er, thank you, Windshear. It's appreciated."

"Thanks but no thanks Fusillade." Ultra Magnus politely replies to the bomber droning on about skulls and eagles and paintjobs. Turning towards Jazz, the City Commander detects amazement and a 'caught-off guard' expression on his comrade's face. Taking a chug of the ener-brew, Magnus regards the Special Ops Lt. Commander with a puzzled/delighted expression. "Hey, I can be ... cold! That's what the minibots are calling it nowadays right, cold?"

"HELL YEAH! SKULLS AND EAGLES AND CRAP!" Powerglide hollers, swinging his mug around and spilling whatever is left in it. "Yo, check it out! I have artwork too!" He hiccups and plops his portfolio down on the ground. "BEAUTIFUL, MAGNIFICENT ARTWORK!" Powerglide reaches inside and pulls out a stack of papers, all of which sport awful charicatures of his fellow Autobots. "AH YES! My most treasured of.....treasures." He reaches further into the portfolio and pulls out a large canvas that has been covered with a red cloth.

Air Raid had been watching the aerial dance with folded arms and a grim expression. A self-proclaimed critic of all art, he had quite a few things to say about Fleet's form, but he gets waylaid by Powerglide's loud appearance, and jogs over to have a look. "What the...!"

Grapple is, frankly, rather disturbed by Powerglide. Druken stupors tend to lead to havok of some sort, and the sloshing brew going everywhere makes him worry for the various pieces of art around. The yelling doesn't help, either. For the moment, the architect simply stares and wonders if there was any sort of security in this festival.

Catechism covers half her face as Windshear suggest that she must have fun 'sky dancing'. She starts to snap, "It's aerial dance, not..." She pauses and shakes herself. "Straxus! I sound like some horrid Purist! Uhm. Not that there is anything wrong with being a Purist, except that everyone know that Survivalism represents the only real future for..." Another pause and shake. "I mean... it's good combat flight training. Yes." She narrows her optics and stares intently at Fleet, explaining, "Who said anything about nose art for YOU? I am talking about me, here. I just need you to pose." She'll get to the beautiful hexagons and Powerglide's artwork later!

Windshear smiles briefly at Fleet as Darking gives encourgement to Dreadwinds 'performance'. "I love doing stuff like that.. maybe next time you need someone give me a thought." Suddenly he hears the Autobot hollering about skulls and eagles and then he sees.... Air Raid. He gives him a look. "Well if it isnt the Aerialbot bratt..."

Dee-Kal listens around her. She tilts her head at something that puzzles her and tugs gently at Jazz's shoulder. The young Junkion looks over at the general direction of the other stalls and touches her nose-tip, quizzically.

Fairway has arrived late with several large canvasses in tow. He is pulling a cart with his art supplies on it. He's gone to great lengths to prepare some paintings for exhibition here, but really has no idea how to display them, or how to fit in amongst the other artistic types. The booth reserved for him is next to Grapples, and he frowns as he approaches, belabored. "Friend Grapple," he says, "this booth seems to be smaller than what I was promised." He begins trying to set everything up. "How goes the exhibition?"

"Suit yourself! I have paying customers now anyway!" Fusillade cackles at Magnus, even as Catechism tugs Fleet over. "Hnn... this would be FREEHAND... so I'll uh... give you a discount." She squints at Fleet, back over to Catechism, and grins wickedly, already pretty sure where this was going. "I can do this in layers I guess. I will start with a mermaid!!" She lugs out an airbrush and yellow paints, and sets aside white ones just in case. "Oh oh OH Powerglide do you have any of the tapes?" She seems like she's looking more at Powerglide's portfolio than she is her own work.

Jazz cannot hold back his chuckle this time "hehe That's 'COOL' Magnus. Gotta be 'COOL' like mellow out or just chillin' ya know what I'm sayin'?" He pats his fellow Autobot on the shoulder. "Ya know we really need to go hang out more. I am sure you are a barrel of laughs with enough high-grade in you." Jazz has a taste of ener-brew "Exotic and refreshing. I like it!"

"Get away from me, Aerialbutt-face!" Powerglide snaps when Air Raid bounds up to him like a hyperactive puppy. "This art is a surprise! I will reveal it when the time is right. In the mean time you can fetch me another beer." He points at Maccadams. "GO! VAMANOS!"

Grapple seems to be calmed by Fairway's presence, although he keeps glancing to the drunken Powerglide. "Pleasently, so far. Although a little strangely, all things considered." He gives Fairway's paintings a surprised look. "Do you need assistance setting up..?"

Shockwave does not drink. Shockwave has no mouth. Shockwave is powered by nuclear fission. He tends quietly to his exhibit and looks up from time to time to give passers-by long unreadable stares.

Air Raid frowns! "Aw jeez, can't you guys come up with better nicknames?" Nonetheless, he jerks away when Powerglide snaps at him, and glances at the bar. "Aren't you already tanked? Hey Fairway!"

Scattershot sits back and watches the action unfoldas he arrives not really sure what exactly is going on. He walks over to Air Raid and asks "What is all of this?!"

"It is ART, my friend! Behold!" Raid gestures.

Powerglide just stares at Air Raid for a few minutes. "....NO! NO! I'm not half as drunk as I should be." He waves over at Fairway, "HEY, FAIRWAY! GET ME A BEER!"

He spins around and stares at Fusillade, "Tapes? Ehhh, yeah of course I do! I got tons of 'em! They have an endless supply of suck for me to draw, hahahaha!"

airway smiles over at Grapple as he struggles with several large pieces of equipment he does not know the proper names of. "Grapple, I would welcome your assistance. I am afraid that I am woefully unprepared for something like this." Hearing his name, he looks past Powerglide and raises a hand to Air Raid. "Friend Air Raid! It's good to see you. Are you showing art here as well?"

"Posing? Why am I posing?" Fleet asks, entirely baffled. He looks between Catechism and Fusillade, and then realization dawns and his optics widen. "You can't... you... why?" Then his palm covers his face and he sighs as he looks over at Fusillade. "How do you, erm, want me to stand?"

Dreadwind says, "Oh i can let them know, but they never listen, theyt don't want to hear it they can't cope with the terrible truth and so i am left alone... with you, what a terrible fate paired with someone so cheerful." He pauses for a mioment and then replies to Windshear, who may well have wandered off he can't really see anything but the floor in front of him, "The reality of things are rarely true to the facts of our tortured existence, they are usually obscured so that you continue to try when it is clearly pointless.""

A small, slinky creature with narrow wings and deer antlers pauses at Grapple's booth, forms clutched nervously in its foreclaws. Alertly twitching its head this way and that, it darts out a thin tongue from within a hummingbird beak, scribbles down something quickly, faceted eyes whirling excitedly. With one last check in a box, it hops up and down on its haunches, and imperiously quizzes Grapple about his display.

"Cool. Hrm, maybe I'll have to watch that music television Blaster is always droning on about then." Ultra Magnus gruffs, taking another long chug from the ener-brewski. Walking along, he takes in the 'sights' with little or no attachment to the various displays. "Yes, I'll have to clear my schedule for a rendevois Jazz."

Fairway says, "A beer, Powerglide? Certainly. I shall oblige as soon as I am finished setting up."

"Yeaaaaaahhh! You're the best, Fairway!" Powerglide exclaims with a thumbs up.

Darkwing chuckles softly as he watches the Faux-Seeker and Wannabe-Arialbot exchange barbs for a moment. Then looks to Dreadwind. "I'm going to get an Ener-Beer, You stay here and don't move." Darkwing says with another of those 'jovial' luaghs that Dreadwind hates so much, knowning that the currently Bronzed Gloomjet won't be going anywhere till after this is over.

Grapple moves from his booth for just a moment to help Fairway, only to get distracted by the.. Well, he isn't quite sure what the creature at his booth is. "Ah.. Hello, there. Yes, these are simply scale models, so you can handle them if you wish. They can be built to any size with many modifications based on location and price, of course.."

The little Junkion suspects she'll get few answers out of Jazz; the prospect of energon brews and good company probably means he hasn't even acknowledged her presence as yet. She idles over to where the appropriate beverages are on offer. Dee-Kal fails to recognise any of the brand names. Still, feeling a little thirsty, she picks up a large glass of something and takes it away with her.

Catechism actually looks pleased as Windshear suggests he would be interested in what assuredly Fleet's hobby, not Catechism's hobby. She encourages, "Yes, Fleet should definitely look you up next time!" and stop blackmailling Catechism. Catechism explains it bluntly to Fleet, "This is a /festival/, even if it as an art festival, so it is a time for bad judgement and impulse actions! So I need a cheesecake Seekerboy on my nosecone." Possibly also a mermaid. "It's just how these things go. See, Fusillade knows. Where you fit in should be obvious. Try to show some more thruster?"

"He doesn't need anymore high grade, Fairway! Hey... hey..." Raid crouches to flip through Powerglide's portfolio. "I SO DON'T LOOK LIKE THAT!"

"Just because I'm cheesecake colored doesn't make me a cheesecake Seekerboy!" Fleet protests, crossing his arms. He glances over at Windshear and blinks, then smiles. "And certainly, I'll keep that in mind, Windshear."

Windshear catches both catechisms remark, Dreadwinds remarks and Air Raid whine about 'better' nicknames' all at once and decides hes not answering any of it. But he does hear Darks jab of dont move and tries not to snicker. "Shall I leave you alone, Dread?" Windshear asks as he looks over at the nosecone paint booth Fusillade has open. He also notices Fleet walk away without answering and doesnt pay it much mind. Its pretty loud and busy right about now. Not waiting for Dread to answer cause he knows what that answer will be he pats his friend on the shoulder and heads towar the nosecone art booth.

"HEY! STOP PEEKIN'!" Powerglide begins to throw papers all over the place. "AUUGH! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! LOOK. WHAT. YOU. DID!" He points at the scattered papers, "PICK THOSE UP! PICK THOSE UP RIGHT NOW!"

Jazz walks very slowly stopping at almost every booth. He briefly ponders Fusillade's art booth but can he trust her to actually paint what he wants? Specially if it's a picture of kicking a Decepticon or something equally juvenile. "Ya know Magnus sometimes just have to throw the schedule out the window and just...do stuff. Heck I can't remember the last time I checked my schedule." He spots Shockwave and idly wonders if he carries a grudge from earlier this week. Better not provoke him even if it would be fun. It's not the mature thing to do. He mumbles to Magnus "I wonder what the heck ol' one-eye knows about art. He probably thinks a perfect cylinder is fascinating."

"Ooh ooh ooh twist your hip just a TINY little bit more, lower your head, and POUT. YEAH," Fusillade directs Fleet. She holds up the stencil, and the contortionist pose on the mermaid. "And I have TRIANGLE too, so those can be the wings, I'll just do it like SO..." Fusillade leans forward, face nearly up against Catechism's probe. She pauses, frowns, and after a quick shake of her head, proceeds. "Don't worry, I can draw the bomb he's straddling on my own! I've practiced that one enough." She spritzes a few times, humming cheerfully to herself, and squints a few times as she tries to decide where the white should go. At the screaming from Powerglide and Air Raid behind her, she whines. "AW c'mon I didn't get a chance to see the best ones! Hey Powerglide draw my BUTT while I'm leaning over doing this for Catechism." She gives a quick, jaunty wave at Windshear as he approaches.

Dee-Kal returns to the stalls and displays and begins to move around, taking in each stall n turn to see what is on offer or how. As she makes her way along, she notes with some curiousity that her glass is a little on the big side. Still, she's extra thirsty. She takes a swig or two.

Fairway smiles at Air Raid and Powerglide as he goes about preparing his booth. He is displaying several of the paintings he has recently done depicting some of the fantastic views of other world's he was briefly afforded on the Test planet when the dimensional destabilizer exploded. Another is a copy of the one he painted for Andi - a scene of pre-war Cybertron. Therer are blank canvases as well, as he intends to try and do at least one painting live tonight.

Dreadwind continues to sit there bronzed and holding his head in his hands looking thoroughly depressed, so some things never change, "Leave me alone? I am always alone there is no one that understands, there is only the laughter, derision and abuse that is heaped on my shoulders. The weight threatening to crush me into a singularity and yet i am forced to continue."

Fleet pouts. But only because he's being ordered to. He twists his hip and lowers his head, too. "All right, all right, I'm posed," the pastel Seeker grumbles, then just stands there. He does happen to be very, very good at standing still when he wants to.

(It's cheaper to animate him that way.)

"Okay okay! Sorry!" Raid stoops and sorts the artwork, and decides to comment on them. "Ultra Magnus' head is too fat in this one. The perspective here is WAY OFF... Did Fusillade just ask you to draw her butt?"

Scattershot keeps walking around watching what everybody is doing as he walks around he keeps one optic on Powerglide, wondering why he is acting as crazy as he is.

The creature gives a pleased chirrup at Grapple's demonstration, and coils about one of the smaller towers to investigate it, stuffing its head into the atrium. It squeaks as it wrestles itself free, and puffs up briefly. With a prim flick of its tail, it thanks Grapple, and then scuttles over to Shockwave's display. There is a long, protracted silence from it.

Fusillade is (badly) painting Seekerboi noseart on Catechism!

Fleet is posing, since he's the Seekerboi being depicted.

"Throw it out the window? Why, that would be just neglecting duties and .. wrong." Ultra Magnus replies, thinking to himself when the last time he actually postponed responsibilities for recreational purposes. Nope, can't think of one. He follows Jazz throughout the festival, an "Excuse me." here and "Sorry." there as others parade around like mechs with their heads chopped off. "Shockwave is here?"

Dee-Kal follows Jazz, as it happens. Once again she wonders about the art. Surely they don't mean *that*... if so... why..? She lifts her jar and takes another chug or two of energon beer - and nearly colliding into Jazz himself.

Grapple isn't entirely certain what just happened with the beaked creature. It even takes him a moment to realize the avian-like thing walked off with one of his tower displays. He reaches under the booth and replaces the missing tower with an identical duplicate, nonplussed. Then, he looks back to Fairway. "My appologies about that delay." Then, he finally goes about helping set up the paintings.

Catechism is looking somewhat shot up, oddly enough, but is no longer a bee or a bear. She is standing still as Fusillade paints up her cone with some Seekerboi cheesecake while Fleet is forced to stand there as a reference. She laughs nervously and excuses, "Whoops. Makes it easier to use the same refuellers as helicopters, you know? Anyway... oooh, straddling a bomb? Excellent!"

Powerglide would squint at Fusillade if he was capable of doing so but alas. "I would, lady, but I don't think I have a big enough piece of paper! Hahahahaha!" He snaps his fingers, "Fairway! WHERE IS MY BEER!"

Windshear chuckles in spite of himself as he listens to dreadwind. That is exactly what he knew he would say. He wishes Dread wasnt alwasys in the grips of the truth but what can you do? He nods at Fusillades wave and leans up against something and watches the noseart in progress. "I might go for some noseart but Id lose it the next battle I got in for sure..." he rasps as he watches.

"Worry not, friend," Fairway says to Grapple, "I thank you for your help. But it does seem as though that individual has absconded with part of your display."

Jazz nods and points over to the left about 45' away the taller form of the Decepticon commander "It's not neglecting your duty when you have other people covering for you when you are away. Intel runs pretty smooth and I will be honest...none of us really spend time at the office. We do our best work on the field and on the move. And yes Shockers is over there right by the. whoa sorry there." He turns around and sees Dee-Kal "Whoa hey there Deek. You here to check out the scene or you have a boot of your own?"

Grapple actually smirks ever so slightly. "The information phamplet for this event did say there would be beverages of a certain nature available, so I crafted five duplicates of each display piece. I had assumed something would naturally occur within the vicinity of the oil house." A slight shrug. "I.. Admittingly did not expect theft, but it was simply a sample piece."

Air Raid waves a dismissive hand at Powerglide's work and straightens. "I'll give it overall a 3.4. Could be better. Use more crayons," he advises, having never picked up a drawing utensil in his life. He moves on to study Fairway's pretty landscapes, humming appreciatively.

Powerglide GLARES at Air Raid. How...how dare he!?

"HOW DARE YOU!?" Powerglide shouts. He picks up the portfolio and chases after Air Raid, swinging the folder by the handle at his head. "I AM AN ARTIST!"

Darkwing returns over to Dreadwind, with a pair of ice cold Ener-beers. "I know you don't like to drink, and will probbaly go on about how it's poisining your system and killing you slowly. But I brought you one just to be nice. You can drink it if ya get thristy." Darkwing says with a luagh setting the one for Dreadwind on a table that Dreadwind can just see, and then opens his own and start to guzzle it down.

"Either way, I don't exactly have someone to pick up the slack ... what with Kup's forgetfulness ... funny how that never happens when he's recalling how every situation reminds him of another one." Ultra Magnus chuckles, looking behind him at the Junk-Auto Dee-Kal. Nodding his head in a greeting, "Hello Dee-Kal, what brings you to the festival?"

Shockwave's 'art' is certainly out there, literally as well as figuratively. Most of it seems to be either radio telescopy or electron microscopy. "Salutations, judging entity. My exhibit was inspired by a question I occasionally endure from impudent underlings." His voice changes as he replays Needlenose asking him, "Shockwave, how come you like hexagons so much?" and then changes back to his own perfectly modulated timbre. "While travelling through outer space and performing scientific research I often encounter recurring geometric patterns, of which the one that I calculate as greatest in structural soundness, flexibility and tesselative potential, is by far the hexagon."

Shockwave swivels his upper body (without moving his head or legs) to indicate a series of what would look like pointillist paintings, if the points were not so perfectly regular. It looks more like someone built a giant dot-matrix printer that can print with acrylic paints. "Consider the following: the colony structures of superior social insects; the internal structure of the carbon nanotube; the semi-permanent polar storms of gas giants; the protein case of a virus; the exterior of a pollen grain; water crystals; the macrocrystalline formations of basalt. All of these works are by myself and reproduced as accurately as possible from my own observations."

The teenage Junkette takes a step back and narrowly avoids spilling her jar of ener-beer. She's still rather thirsty, so she lifts it up and chugs down several litres before stopping. She tilts her head at JAzz. Then s he points to the art booth where the SEekers are stationed and hesitantly taps her nose in query...

"All the more reason to get something utterly over the top. Half the fun is that it's temporary!" Fusillade half-shouts over the din in Windshear's direction. For the more observant that look inside while she works, a few choice JDAMs are sitting upright, with framed pictures of the detonations of Nagasaki, Killarn, and Neocron hanging above them. Powerglide's remark sinks in -- "HEY!" before she grunts, and starts laying down some wobbly outlines on the oversized feet and codpiece she's illustrated.

Air Raid gets smacked in the back of the helm by Powerglide's portfolio. "OW! Help! I'm being assaulted by art! LEARN TO ACCEPT CRITIQUE, YOU HACK!"

Shockwave removes the cover of a roughly cylindrical object to display a colony of bees which he has brought from Earth, which is what was making the humming sound. "These social insects are a superior species found on a planet which I often have cause to visit. They utilize the hexagon's structural advantages in the construction of their dwellings, which they construct collectively within their own bodies. Although they are individually virtually mindless, as a collective they are an effective competitor and consumer. Let their sacrifice in service to the greater good be a lesson to all organic life."

Powerglide continues to pummel Air Raid until the folder falls apart and spews papers everywhere at which point he just tosses it aside. "YOU SUCK, ASS RAID! GO GET ME MY BEER!"

Finished setting up at last, Fairway puts his hands on his hips and steps back to assess his display. He is about to make some comment about being surprised by the disreputable types this event seems to have attracted when Air Raid starts shouting about hacks. Fairway turns, a bit shocked, half thinking that Raid is commenting on his paintings! When he sees what's actually going on, he laughs. "Peace friends," he sazys, "there are certainly as many things to admire here as there are to criticize."

Dreadwind sits there perfectly still his cold yellow optics glance at the drink that Darkwing has brought over and conveniantly placed just beyond him, "I would go on about how the poisoning is slowly destroying us from the inside out, but that was before we got our annoying new partners all the contaminants are quickly removed from our sytems now ensuring that we continue suffering for many more centuries than we would otherwise have had to."

Dee-Kal winces somewhat at the cacophony to the far side of the grounds. She doesn't need to guess who the source of the noise is...

Jazz looks at the Seeker art booth "Ya came out here to check out the seeker's body art? Thinking of a new paint job or just professional interest?" Jazz takes another sip of beer. "Come on Magnus there's gotta be someone who can pick up the lack for one day. Maybe Scattershot or Fortress Maximus?"

Grapple stares in surprise as Powerglide attacks Air Raid with.. Art.. A bare distance from their booths. "Oh, dear.." He doesn't seem ready to help either the attacker or the victim; instead, he shields his little display pieces with his arms.

Catechism grins a bit as she sights Fusillade's framed explosions. Some of those look familiar! At the overheard talk of BEEs, however, she twitches, possibly upsetting Fusillade's work. Whoops!

The bees dance around inside their transparent plastic cylinder.

Windshear shrugs at Fusillades answer and then says, "Fine them whats the charge for some crazy noseart? I dont care what -- I mean within reason that is."

Uncoiling its tail from around Grapple's beautifully sculpted micro-tower, the judges tiny deer-ears droop in consternation as its tiny brain gets overloaded with information. It lingers over its sheets, unsure what to write down, before jamming its beak into the jar to lap at the apiary's honey. There's an explosive SQUAK and a sudden rattle as it darts way, tail lashing. There's a faint, irascible hiss from it as it snags the miniature building, and hauls it back to Grapple's booth. It begins leaning over to Fairway, drawn in by the calming images.

"What the slag do I look like to you, a maid!?" Raid sissy-slaps at Powerglide for a moment, and stalks away. "Fairway is right! PEACE! Hey Windy, I can paint some nose art on ya'! I'M REALLY GOOD!" Grapple's little set-up catches his attention, and he pauses to study what's not covered.

Ultra Magnus merely nods his head, following along behind Jazz ... trying to keep pace when there are so many individuals rushing about. "You'd think so wouldn't you? But Scattershot is usually shot ridden from constant wagering of war, Fortress Maximus I haven't considered. Perhaps I should speak to him."

"Ah, thank you!" Grapple smiles pleasently at the avian as he takes the miniature tower back. "Much appreciated!" He slides the tower underneath the booth with the rest of the display duplicates.

Shockwave warns, a little too late, "The insect colony is capable of defending itself via mild chemical weapons produced within the bodies of the colony members."

Shockwave puts a mesh lid on the bee canister before any other sugar-loving organics make the same mistake.

Deek smiles at Ultra Magnus and downs several more litres of beer. She has no idea what she's drinking. It's probably just as well. At the mention of bees she's distracted from the conundrum about nose art. Why anybody should want their nose painted... but then again, fashion is always advancing.

"BAH! If you were my maid, I would have you fired! You can't even fetch a beer properly!" Powerglide crosses his arms and huffs. "Stupid, sexy Aerialbots. Think they're SOOOOO cool.." He stomps over to where he left his covered painting and picks it up. "I'll show HIM who's cool.."

Fairway pleased to have attracted interest and oblivious that this hissing creature is a judge, Fairway steps to the side of his booth and gestures toward his paintings. "I painted these using paints of my own mixture, which incorporates some particles of paramagnetic iron oxide, and thus occasionally displays a slight color shift when in the presence of a strong electromagnetic field."

Windshear hears Air Raid and looks back at him, "I can just bet the noseart youd put on me, Autobot...." he snears. "I can return the favor as well...."


 * phhhshhhhhhhhhh!*

Fleet becomes very anatomically incorrect as Catechism moves, and Fusillade's optics flare brightly. "I... errr, uh..." She stands up, regretfully rubbing the back of her helmet as the stencil falls away, signalling Fleet's release from his overly coy pose. "Nothing," she admits wich chagrin. "But YEAH, want some iron fists? Some turbo-wolves? Lightning bolts? NEKKID POWERGLIDE?" she makes a point to project this one loud and clear.

"/I/ can paint a nekkid Powerglide on ya', Windy! HOLD STILL!" Raid attempts to grapple the poor tetrajet, producing a paintbrush from subspace and wielding it like a dagger.

Fleet straightens and breaths a sigh of relief as he's allowed to move. "Ah, thanks." He gives a faint sigh. "I've not had near enough to drink for this."

"I'M ALWAYS NEKKID, BAY BEE!" Powerglide hollers, arms in the air.

Scattershot in overhearing Magnus and Jazz walks towards them and nods "Did someone mention my name" he still looks about to everyone rushing around.

Windshear finds himself grabbed by Air Raid and starts wrestling with him to get him to let go. "I. Didnt ASK for a nekked Powerglide!! Get off me!"

Catechism is oblivious to what might have happened to the nose art on her head. Instead, she cheerily goes for her shanix to pay Fusillade. As Fleet starts talking about drinks, she tries to elbow him and reminds, "I said to belay the drinks, not cancel them! Wait up for me!" Fleet dragged her here, into this sordid, seedy underworld of art, class, and culture. Now he needs to put up with her!

Grapple stares, for a moment, at Powerglide. After a few seconds, he shakes his head to clear it. Then, he looks to Fairway display his artwork and catches sight of one of the more colourful pieces; he stares at the painting. And stares more. .. And keeps staring.

Air Raid gets wrestled off. "Oh fine. Your loss! Pardon me, I must do some judging." He turns back to Grapple's models and nods approvingly, stroking his chin. His gaze follows Grapple's to Fairway's artwork. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Grapple keeps staring at Fairway's painting; he doesn't answer Air Raid. After a few seconds of what may be awkward silence, a sudden grin crosses his face. "Brilliant!" Then, he reaches under the booth and pulls out a notebook; he opens a page and begins to scribble hurridly.

"All right, all right, I'll order, then," Fleet tells Catechism, wandering towards the drinks stand. He warily avoids any Autobots on the way whenever possible, giving them a wide area, as he moves in to scoop up two drinks.

Is all Windshear can do to not knock the slag out of Air Raid as he walks away. But again he honors neutral territory and turns back toward the noseart booth. "You never said how much you charge, Fusillade?"

"Hey hey there's no puddin' or mud in here, getcher own wrasslin' rink!" Fusillade grouses at all the planes that have descended upon her booth (and each other!). She ooohs quietly as Fleet and Catechism go back to the open-air drink stand outside Maccadam's. Windshear's question snaps her back to attention. "OH! Well the art's kinda crummy so uh... nothing. But if you wanted to be super nice you can get me some high-grade to replace this oiled-down swill here," she gestures with her ener-lite cup.

Powerglide takes his painting and bounds over to an unfortunate strangers art booth, "Hey! I gotta borrow this for a second, it'll only be a second, I swear." He climbs onto the table and begins to kick the items off of it so he has more room. He then clears his throat and holds his painting high above his head.

"HELLO, ART LOVERS! MY NAME IS POWERGLIDE AND I AM THE WAY OF THE ART FUTURE! LOOK UPON ME AND TREMBLE! ARE YOU READY.....ARE YOU READY TO HAVE YOUR MIND BLOWN!?"

Jazz smiles at Scattershot "Hey there man. Long time no see outside of the usual business. What happenin' with you man?" The Autobot tries to keep his attention on the people he talks to but there is so much to see and learn WOW. "Say Deek, I expected you would have you own booth or somethin'. Decided to skip or was it too short notice?"

"I don't think so, Jazz?" Ultra Magnus replies to Scattershot's inquiry.

As Fairway explains his art, the bizarre alien judge tilts its head, and tentatively taps against one of the canvases, an aurora-like shimmer escaping the spot where it touched. It twitters, and loop de loops in the air, before cheerfully jotting down notes and checking three boxes. When Grapple begins cross-participating, it discreetly checks off another box, and then flutters wings to hover over to the table that Powerglide has kicked items off. It cringes at the violence, eyes whirling more rapidly, wrinkling judging papers in its foreclaws.

Dee-Kal takes a another few swigs of her drink from the jug. She' about to answer Jazz when she pauses. Something feels ... odd. She suddenly finds her self under unexpected pressure. A few seconds later Powerglide makes his announcement...

Windshear nods, "Alright, let me get you some highgrade." he turns and goes to the open air drink stand outside maccadams and orders the best grade they have. He waits for the drink and looks around as he does, his attention diverted to Powerglide as he starts yelling. He stares at him as theres a nudge on his arm. The Seeker turns and pays for the drink then heads back to the nosecone art booth. "Here." he offers as he hands it to Fusillade. Then he looks around. "I need to transform.." he says to no one in particular and transforms to rest on the ground. "There you go." The Tetrajet says and sits still.

Robot Windshear transforms into a Cybertronian pyramid/Tetrajet.

Darkwing chuckles and looks to Dreadwind. "Maybe your doing too good a job bro. I think your scaring all the watchers off. Maybe Next time I need to pose you more cheerfully in rainbow colors, in contrast to your mood..." Darkwing ponders out loud as he takes another swig from his Ener-Beer.

"This piece," Fairway says to the staring Grapple, "depicts what I presume is a view of a planet in another dimension. It is something I was lucky enough to see in a singularity. Do you like it?" Seeing the way the little buzzing creature reacts warms Fairway and brings a smile to his face. He whispers, "It seemed impressed, yes?"

Scattershot nods to Jazz "Not much at all, just watching everybody here go freaking crazy! I thought we were at war here?"

"BEHOLD!" Powerglide stands as tall as he can (which isn't that tall), his covered painting still grasped tightly between his hands. "TODAY I WILL REVOLUTIONIZE HOW YOU SEE ART!"

Air Raid looks up at Powerglide, hands on his hips. The judge wanders over, and looks pissed. "Ooooh Powerglide, you're in trouuubbbleeee."

Catechism leaves Fusillade enough shanix to get herself a decent drink before chasing after Fleet. It has occured to her that left to his druther, Fleet is going to buy some horrible wussy drink that will ruin her reputation even more! Along the way, hwowever, she gets distracted and pauses to stare at Shockwave's stand. The hexagons vaguely horrify her, and yet, she cannot look away.

Ultra Magnus finds a cybertronian sized seat and sits down, resting back in the chair he finally notices Powerglide's tirade and bold announcement. "This should prove amusing in the least." he mutters to no one in particular.

Grapple looks up after a few minutes of harried scribblings. He smiles broadly at Fairway, as if the most wonderful thing has occured. Without a word, he simply turns the notebook around to show Fairway; it appears to be a quick, yet slightly detailed sketch of a building. The sculpture has clear inspiration from Fairway's painting. Somehow, he seems to not have heard Powerglide two booths over.

Fleet was too frightened to approach Shockwave's stand. :(

"Yess....YESSSSS! All eyes on me! Hahahahaha!" Powerglide has that crazed look in his eyes, the same look he had while he was England's Prime Minister except this time he isn't being mind controlled.

Dreadwind sighs, "But i'm not doing anything, you of all people should know the utter pointlessness of putting any effort into anything, especially this and yet you still dragged me here in front of a huge crowd to be ignored by everyone, it's so depressing."

Dee-Kal drinks some more ener-beer from the jar. It fails to make the uncomfortable feeling go away. If anything, she feels slightly worse...

Jazz pats Scattershot on the shoulder "We still are man but Crystal City is a neutral protectorate so...Kinda like at the Olympics you shift in neutral and enjoy the ride while it lasts. Besides it's nice to see a re-emergence of Cybertronian culture that is not based on warfare. I was afraid all that stuff was lost to the centuries of destruction."

Catechism rubs her optics, as if they're bleary, though that is impossible for robots, and then she narrows her optics, looking at Shockwave suspiciously. She points a finger at him, and she demands, "Did you have anything to do with Americon's cyberbee-worshipping cult? Uhm. Sir."

Powerglide rips the red cloth off his painting and holds it high for everyone to see. "THIS, MY FELLOW ARTISTS, IS WHAT /TRUE/ SKILL LOOKS LIKE!"

(http://i35.tinypic.com/ngoa9x.png)

Ultra Magnus has disconnected.

"Yeah, now that's more like it!" Fusillade cheers as Windshear brings over first the best beverage immediately available, and then turns into sky candy. "What delightful wedge shapes. That orange really brings out those actuators, hun." She mentally tags Windhsear with 'cabana boi' and then takes another long draught, turning to Powerglide on occasion. She draws air over her vents in a long, satisfied draw, and asks, "SO! What'll it be? See anything that catches your interest?" She tosses up a video slide show of several common motifs. (http://www.flightglobal.com/airspace/photos/nose_art/default.aspx)

And then Galvatron arrives at the arts festival, dropping down directly from above. He appears to be carrying a massive stone slab against his chest, which he sets down in a booth reserved specifically for himself. He smiles to himself a bit, chuckling. His back is currently to Powerglide's painting. Currently.

"Not that I am aware of," replies Shockwave. "However, since I will eventually revisit what I learned from the chronosphere project and develop time travel, it is possible that my future self will be in some way responsible for Americon's past behavior."

Fairway takes a minute to admire Grapple's sketch before he is finally distracted by Powerglide. He turns to look and then immediately turns back to Grapple. "I am honored," he says to Grapple. "Would you truly build such a structure? I would be glad to help."

Air Raid just... stares at Powerglide's 'art', optics wide. "Holy sweet Primus," is all he can think to say.

"AH HA HA HA HA! BOW DOWN TO MY ARTISTIC SUPERIORITY!" Powerglide chortles.

And then he sees Galvatron and suddenly he becomes soft spoken.

Grapple is distracted by the yelling as much as anyone else; he blinks at it once. Then, he decides to pretend he never saw it. With a grin at Fairway, he nods. "Of course! Your work is the inspiration, after all!"

Catechism deflates a bit, sagging, and she grumbles, "Okay. I'll buy that excuse, sir. THIS TIME." She starts to wander away, "Hmmph! My future self could have done it. At least that's better than 'Ravage ate my bidget report'." That is when she espeies Powerglide's grand unveilling. Her head tilts to one side, and she stutters, "What is... that? Powerglide's version of a Tiujana Bible? Uuuuh?"

Tetrajet  looks at the pictures and thinks for a moment, "I saw some older earth plane from their second world war that had the nosecone painted like an open mouth with teeth. How about that?"

Jazz watches the unveiling and is at a loss for words..."Holy slag...Did he planned on turning this thing into a riot or something?' The Spec ops commander facepalms and hopes everything will be allright and people will not take /too much/ offense to it.

The judge pins ears back, and looks constipated. Its little beady eyes fix on the Minibot, and unfurling its score sheets, it hisses balefully and then stabs its beak through one checkbox, and continues on its way, until it pauses at Dreadwind's and Darkwing's display. It rocks back and forth on its haunches, expression quizzical.

Shockwave observes Powerglide as Catechism moves out of his line of sight, and is satisfied that his booth is not in the line of fire between Galvatron's booth and Powerglide's booth. All the same, he moves his bees out of the way just in case.

"Your idea is inspiring indeed," Fairway says to Grapple. He, too, has decided to pretend that Powerglide's picture simply doesn exist due to his fondness for continued sanity. "For your aid, I can render the same building in a much clearer way."

Powerglide glares at the departing judge. "Hey! HEY! What kind of reaction was THAT!?" He holds the painting up against and waves it around. "DID YOU SEE IT!? I think I deserve the medal for best painter RIGHT NOW!"

Dee-Kal winces as the uncomfortable feeling becomes almost as unbearable as the 'art' Powerglide just unveiled....

Galvatron begins to ever so slowly turn around to check out the other pieces of artwork. Slowly... slowly... slowly...

>*BUUUUURRRRRRRRRRP*<

Darkwing says, "Well considering Powerglide's 'art' Maybe were best left being Ignored. Less chance of us ending up spending the night with the Constructicons at this distance...""

"LOOK AT IT! LOOK AT IT! LOOOOOOKKK ATTTTT ITTTTTT!" Powerglide keeps it held high and proud.

Catechism bounces over to look at what Fairway has to offer. Surely, not all the Autobots are going to attempt shock psychological warfare, as Powerglide is obviously doing? (Catechism is often disappointed.)

Ultra Magnus rocks back in the chair, taking another long chug of the ener-brew. In mid consumption, Powerglide's 'masterpiece' is revealed, causing the City Commander to spew out a tiny jet stream of the concoction out towards Scattershot and Dee-Kal. "What, are you serious? What in the frakkin' hell was he thinking?" Magnus blares out towards Jazz. A moment of silence before he continues, "Nevermind, I don't want to know."

Dee-Kal feels de-pressurised, and a darned sight more comfortable. Although how long that will last is another matter.

"That would be an honor --" Grapple stops for a moment; it seems he only then noticed Galvatron in the vicinity. He looked from Galvatron to Powerglide's 'art', then realizes how close their booths are. "..I am not certain our proximity to those two is a good idea."

Dreadwind sighs, not seeing the judge from his horrible pose assuming that the hissing is just a disapproving onlooker, "So nothing changes then i am ignored here, at the base, during combat, everywhere. Then people ask me why i am so depressed when it is so blatently obvious if they paid me the slightest bit of attention, which they don't."

Fairway crosses his arms as Catechism comes over. He tries to smile and greet her amiably, but it's difficult to pretend to be glad to see someone who dropped bombs on you last time you saw her. "Good evening," he says, "and... welcome." He stands aside, next to Grapple, to allow Catechism to peruse his display. "Agreed, friend," he says to Grapple. But he doesn't elaborate, being a bit on edge.

Darkwing notices the judge right after his comment. "Oh so your finally over here?" He says, not really asks. "This is my submission. It is 4 million years in the making. With I I show off the dark feelings that consume us all, yet that we all try to hide from behind a smiling face or nice comment. People should know the truth of our miserable estince, and what way then to have it on display for them all to see! And as you hear, its even able to express its misey in words and never shuts upp. That is why I have titled it 'The Complainer.'

Grapple closes up his notebook and sets it underneath the booth again. He glances to Catechism for just a moment, but seems more worried about Galvatron and Powerglide.

Catechism waves a hand dismissively and fixes Fairway with the same smile a fox gives to the hen in her coop. She says, "Oh, don't look so happy to see me! Really. You are too, hrm, kind. But tell me a bit about your work, here?" Artists love to jabber about their work, right?

Meanwhile Shockwave is projecting a short film (http://tinyurl.com/yjpp473) from his cannon arm against a cloth screen he has hung up on the back of his booth. He produces the soundtrack from his own internal speakers.

"Yeah Grap, let's uhh... scoot a bit..." Raid mutters, ready to dart, until Catechism shows up. "Hello Dirge! Oh he don't like to jabber. Told him he should display it more, the mech's so shy. Brimmin' with talent though."

Pulling out more of the white and red paint, Fusillade has the presence of mind to clean the nozzle before starting on Windshear's request. She starts with a base of red in a LARRRRRRRRRRGE triangle draping over Windhsear's nosecone, and hums happily to herself, before pulling out a large letter 'A'. She begins spraying the white paint through the stencil, and then once several rows of teeth are put in, draws in an outline of a mouth, and 'eyes' a bit further up on the fuselage. However, the S shape for the eyebrow is tilted down on the right hand side to give the face an ANGRY look, while the S shape is tilted upward to give the face a SCARED look. Oops. "Hey this looks pretty good!" she assures Windshear.

Dee-Kal wisely decides that drinking anything at venues like this is probably not a good idea. It causes loud noises. She sets the glass jar aside.

Tetrajet  sits there still and can feel the paint his his nosecone and the work shes doing. "I trust that it does." he rasps and makes sure to stay still while she continues with the design.

Catechism is Dirge. Yes. She wishes. Catechism them fixes a predatory look on the Aerialbot, a look which might be entirely too familiar. She rubs her hands together and looks from Air Raid to Grapple, suggesting, "if the artists doesn't want to talk about his work, perhaps either of you two would care to say a few words?" Then she hears the strains of 'O Fortuna' and glanes over at Shockwave's love-video to the hexagon. She shudders.

Fairway nods. "Thank you," he says to Air Raid, "you flatter me, certainly." He makes another, better attempt to smile. He supposes it's best to try and be civil. "I've only just begun to paint. As you can see, this depicts pre-war Cybertron. The... Autobot symbol featured represents the law enforcement branch from which the faction eventually arose rather than our faction itself." It is almost as if he says this as an apology to Catechism for the prominence of the sigil. "The others are vistas I painted after glimpsing other dimensions in a singularity."

The beaky judge chirrs angrily again in Powerglide's direction, before Darkwing engages it. Nodding, and listening, it considers the words of both Darkwing and Dirge, and hmmmmmms to itself. Scribbles a few things down, and then leaps on Dreadwind's head, kicking and scuffing off a few pieces of the bronzing paint to make the blue and purple along some of Dreadwind's joints. After the very tactile evaulation, it leans back on its tail, and looks pleased as it jots down a few notes. The colors contrast richly against each other now.

Fleet buys a wussy drink that will make Catechism cry.

Shockwave has been a little eccentric about certain recurring themes in spatial geometry ever since he calculated that mysterious 216-digit number in order to escape from that planet that had been hit by the fractal bomb.

It takes a moment for Grapple to notice Catechism is actually talking to him. Before he can respond, Fairway starts speaking. So, he looks on to the two interaction, glancing sideways to Powerglide. He's just waiting the inevitable explosion, now.

Air Raid lets Fairway jabber on, optics on Powerglide now, waiting for the wonderful image of him being cannonized.

Catechism knew Fleet was going to do that! Just wait until she finds out her suspicions are correct! She will facepalm mightily. Until then, she actually listens to what Fairway has to say and pays attention, nodding along. She comments idly, "Other dimensions, huh? Ever visted any? Or just seen them?" Catechism may have a personal perspective on that matter!

Galvatron finally turns completely around, and his optics settle on the "art" that Powerglide made. His amused expression from earlier quickly vanishes. He begins to walk towards Powerglide.

Dreadwind is just sitting there minding his own business when suddenly he's caught in an episode of 'When Bird-creatures Attack' the scrabbling and scraping does little in the way of true damage unless you count the emotional. "Great now i get assaulted as well, this is what you wanted all along isn't it, to see me suffer even more as if the bronzing wasn't enough."

"WHERE IS MY PRIZE MONEY!? I AM OBVIOUSLY THE WINNER OF THIS ART SHOW!"

Powerglide turns his attention from the judge and just shakes his head. "Moron can't appreciate ar-" He becomes dead silent as he spots Galvatron. Oh God, and he's coming towards him. "G-G-G-G-Galvatron, I uh you see uh what had happened was.. uh.."

He points at Air Raid. "HE PUT ME UP TO IT!"

"I confess an interest in visiting other dimensions," Fairway says, "Sadly, though, I have only seen them - and only for a matter of minutes." He doesn't go into detail about his deep and recent wish to be able to escape to a world with no Autobots, no Decepticons, no Great War, and no shame about his criminal past.

"..Oh, dear." A deep worry is in Grapple's tone. "Fairway, my friend, we may wish to.. Move a distance away, right now." It didn't escape his notice that Powerglide is pointing at Air Raid -- who's standing too close to both their booths for comfort.

Air Raid comes very close to fainting. His hands shoot up. "I SWEAR I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, GALVATRON! This is Powerglide's creepy fetish!"

Powerglide gasps! "LIAR! LIAR! OH MY GOD, YOU ARE SUCH A LIAR"!

Catechism sees that the Autobots she is trying to make talk about their art are all freaked out because Powerglide went all Tiujuana Bible over Galvatron and Cyclonus and Galvatron has actually arrived and noticed at last. It's fun to watch them squirm! Though, it dimly registers to her that perhaps, just perhaps, she should get out of the way, too. So Catechism makes a break for it, headed toward the drink booth.

MEANWHILE

Outside the city, Bonecrusher plaintively yells up at an implacable Omega Supreme. "I'm an artist too! Looka this!" He holds up a dirty old cinderblock. "I smashed the Dhahran Air Terminal flat and the humans all thought that was artistic so this is art! And I did it! Scrapper's got an end table made outta Windcharger what he wants to show, Hook made a zombie, an' Scavenger found some pretty rocks or somethin'! Come on, this is discriminatin' of the highest ordah!"

Omega Supreme says, "TASTE: ABSENT. ACCESS: DENIED."

"Aw, man," grumbles Bonecrusher, slinking off with the other Constructicons. "See if we don't smash your stupid city when you're not looking."

Omega Supreme booms, "THAT: HEARD. VIGILANCE: UNSTINTING."

Fairway starts to try and carry his canvases away as Air Raid and Powerglide draw Galvatron's possibly fatal attention. "Friend Air Raid," he says, "A brief retreat may be wise."

Galvatron stops just short of Powerglide, saying nothing for several moments. He glares over at Air Raid as he cowers in fear, then glances back at Powerglide. Then... he chuckles a little bit. "Oh, Powerglide, ordinarily, insulting me like that wouldn't be terribly wise. But fortunately for you, I won't kill you. You're probably wondering why. Well." Suddenly, Galvatron's cannon swings up, pointing at Powerglide's head.

"HERE'S A HINT!!!"

But then, he abruptly switches his aim over to the stone slab he dragged in, and fires on it, instead! Something looks odd about Galvatron's beam--it branches out into strange, seemingly random directions, and once the tyrant ceases firing, a bizarre, swirling fractal pattern has been carved into its surface. "I call it: The End. Enjoy!" Chuckling, Galvatron turns and walks away.

Grapple grabs his notebook and his small collection of duplicate display pieces. The set already on the booth are lest behind, strangely; though, he also grabs a couple of Fairway's paintings in the attempt to rescue them.

Shockwave entertains the possibility that Galvatron may have been in some way altered by his experiences on the fractal planet.

The deer-ferret-hummingbird judge THING (http://heatherbeast.deviantart.com/art/A-Rarer-Bird-34062312 btw) seems satisfied to leave Darkwing's and Dreadwind's moaning in its wake, and it flutters over to peer curiously at the stone tablets that Galvatron abandoned in his booth. There's an appraising scuff of its feet at the material, and it then hops along any engravings that might be present. However, Galvatron SHOOTS it, and with a -SCREEEEEEEEEECH- the judge is consumed in the fractal blossom from the cannon blast.

Grapple stops his rescue attempt and simply stares at the fractal art. He doesn't seem to know what to do, now.

Grimlock arrives! He's just in time to see Galvatron a-splode...a rock. Grimlock pauses, and scratches at his helmet. "Hmmm. Me Grimlock no like ab-stract artings."

Ultra Magnus peers at Galvatron's arrival and belittling of Air Raid and Powerglide. Instead of standing up and making any bigger of a scene, the City Commander chooses to stay seated and watch the altercation unfold. Upon pointing the cannon at Powerglide, Magnus stands up ... then relaxes back down when he moves his aim and target.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH OHMYGODOHMYGODI'MSORRRRYYYY!" Powerglide covers his head with his arms and prepares for the worst when that orange cannon of DEATH is pointed right at his head.

Eventually he lowers his arms and realizes that, yes, he's still alive! "Oh..Oh my God...Holy...Oh god.. I....I..." Powerglide collapses and falls off the table with a thud.

"It had no appreciation of mathematical perfection," declares Shockwave unsympathetically, packing up his bees and paintings now that the judge has been incinerated and there will probably not be a prize.

Dee-Kal feels quirky again, only this time it has nothing to do with drinking too much ener-beer. She narrows her optics. Scowling angrily, she stomps over towards Powerglide-!

Galvatron looks a bit surprised as he wipes out an innocent bystander. It happens all the time, though, so it doesn't last very long. He busies himself with dusting the judge creature's remains off of his work.

"SLAGGIT that thing didn't get to my booth!!!" Fusillade hollers from the backround.

Darkwing says, "Well, you may be happpy to note Brother, that the thing that scratched up is now dead, by Galvcannoning. So maybe the Universe likes you a bit afterall." Darkwign says with an 'as-if' type laugh."

Air Raid stands there, rigid and silent for a few moments. Then Powerglide clatters off the table. Raid laughs. "HAHAHAHA! Oh man. No need to retreat, Fairway, false alarm. Galvatron just killed the judge, I think."

Catechism stares at the fractals, looking horrified and entranced as she was earlier, by Shockwave's hexagons. She has a thing for staring at that which should not be. Drink booth. She definitely needs to get to the drink booth. And where has Fleet gone? He was buying!

Combat: Dee-Kal strikes Powerglide with her Grab attack!

Grapple begins to set Fairway's paintings back on their stands. He does stare, however, at where the judge met his untimely demise. "That poor creature.."

Tetrajet  is just sitting there in jet mode missing everything thats going on, "What didnt get to your booth, Fusillade?" he asks, "And how much longer on the noseart? Not that Im pushing you, just asking."

Fairway stares, confused, holding cumbersome canvases under his arms. "I wasn't even aware that we were being judged," he says. He looks at the fractal pattern on the rock, then down to the black spot that used to the be alien judge. "Someone should see if its notebook remains intact."

Dreadwind sighs, "Happy? Why would i be happy he has finally passed away and can lie still and peaceful, whilst i am denied that releasse and forced to continue onwards, my suffering growing with each passing moment."

Fleet is by the drink booth, drinking a lot. He needed a lot to get through this fair! As Catechism approaches, he offers her a wussy drink that will make her cry.

The fractal pattern Galvatron made swirls and swirls, replicating its pattern over and over as far as one can see. But at an extreme magnification, one might be able to make out... screaming faces?...

Indeed, the screaming face is none other than that of the deceased judge!

Shockwave observes them by adjusting his vision to an extreme magnification. "An intriguing effect, Great Galvatron," Shockwave says, coming back from having packed up his booth into a large case. "By what method do you achieve it?"

Grimlockgrunts a little bit, and he hmms- he takes a moment to procure an energon cube, and then he's over standing by Ultra Magnus. He doesn't look too enthralled by it all. "Hn. Some humie guy write book called 'Art of War.' Me Grimlock think me shoulda brought that."

Without a sound, the little Junkion grabs Powerglide by his aural housing and drags him along after her. A tight-lipped determined look on her face, she hauls him along and heads for Autobot City Commander - Ultra Magnus.

Catechism would be glad that she doesn't have the required magnification to see the screaming face of the judge in the fractals if she know what was in there. As it is, she stares at the drink that Fleet has acquired for her, and she sighs. Catechism takes the wussy drink, holds it up, and says, without enthusiasm, "Cheers!"

Powerglide is dragged along by the Junkion. He can't really protest because he's unconcious.

Galvatron smiles slyly at Shockwave. "Remember that little bauble you and Scorponok picked up you-know-where?" He taps the firing chamber of his cannon. "Hmhmhm. See, my friend, you aren't the only one who knows a thing or two about math. And I, Galvatron, have had the opportunity to implement a forbidden mathematical procedure and apply it to... well, I'll show you later!"

"It seems as though it may be safe to man our bothhs again," Fairway says to Grapple. "I'm a little confused as to what has just happened."

The judging sheets, their edges scorched, flutter back down to the plaza. Rifling through the sheets would reveal multiple categories -- enough that just about everyone got something. Next to the hole poked into the judging sheet by Powerglide's name is a scratched out line that roughly translates into 'portraits', replaced with 'street acting' and 'improv standup comedy' which has three check marks by it. Shockwave's has an honorable mention under the category 'Dadaism', Galvatron's looks like it has a half-written 'Celtic' by it. Tremor's has a special Judge's Pick for emotive Impressionism, and Grapple's work appears to have achieved highest marks for the Applied and Technical categories. Darkwing and Dreadwind have a few checkmarks for Student Achievement -- Color Palette.

Ultra Magnus remains seated, looking up and over his shoulder at Grimlock. "Hrm, 'Art of War' you say? You wouldn't happen to know the author of such a volume, would you Grimlock?" he blathers on, pausing to take another sip of the ener-brew. Resting the glass on the chair's arm, Magnus spies a certain Junk-cadet dragging a thankfully unconcious Powerglide.

Fleet clinks his drink against Catechism's. He's stayed far away from fractals and polygons and such this evening, being a fearful, cowardly sort with a healthy respect for just how dangerous artists really are.

"Cheers," he responds.

"I anticipate a wider demonstration of your new spiral-enhanced weaponry with interest," agrees Shockwave.

"Him name 'Sun Zoo' or somethings." Grimlock shrugs, and then he shuts up, however, as he overhears Galvatron and Shockwave. Mathematics? Weaponry? Whaaa? He sips at his energon cube- and unashamedly listens. Hmm. He's no spy, however. Grimlock grumbles, and looks sidelong at Ultra Magnus. "Where him Jazz?"

Grapple seems just as taken aback by the situation as Fairway. "I'm.. Very confused, as well." He shakes his head a little. "At least there wasn't mass casualties and an explosion."

Hardhead interjects, "And THAT'S why whenever a whole bunch of animals are in one place it's called a ZOO!"

With a flourish of her wrist, Fusillade finishes up spraying the matte lacquer over Windshear. The bomber stands back, and plants hands on her hips proudly. "Huh, that actually looks pretty good!" And this time, it actually does. Stencils are easy. "Okay, you're ready to transform!" She begins putting things away, eagerly eyeing the still-shimmering high-grade sitting on the booth's counter.

Duros adds, "Unless it's a FARM."

Dee-Kal dumps the focus of her anger on the ground in front of Magnus. Carefully laying the aircraft Minibot out into something more respectable, the little Junkion straightens up. She bows politely to the commander, picks up a large jug of water, then draws her tri-blaster neatly from her hips holder.

Jazz went to grab another brew to recover from the unveiling. He returns near Magnus's location "Oh Hey there Grimlock. Didn't expect to see you here, how you been?"

Catechism knocks back her drink, even though it really isn't that kind of drink, and she crushes the container against her head. She exclaims, waving her arms animatedly, "Fleet, you're missing everything!" Having acquired a drink (even a wussy one) to soothe her hurting CPU, she dives back into the crowd, circling back to Windshear, to see what Fusillade has painted for him.

Tetrajet  transforms and looks down at his chest. He can make out part of it and he grins, "That looks neat, Fusillade. Thanks!" he smiles, "Enjoy your highgrade." with a nod he turns and walks out then looks around. "So anything cool happen while I was getting painted? I heard a bunch of noise, what was it?" he asks anyone in particular.

After restoring his display and helping Grapple retore his, Fairway walks carefully to the spot where the little alien's judging sheets have come to rest, a little worried about dangerous residual energies left by Galv's cannon, and gathers them up very carefully. He brings them back to show them to Grapple. "These should probably be shown to another judging official... if there is one. It seems that you got high marks."

Grapple blinks once at the small stack of slightly scorched papers. "I wasn't aware we were being judged." Still, a prideful smile crosses his face as he looks around. "I.. Don't know what the judging officials would look like.."

Air Raid peers over Fairway's shoulder. "Heyyy, not bad not bad Grapple. And you too, Fairway! Haaa, Shockwave got honorable mention."

Grimlock hmms, and he looks down at Jazz. "Hn. YOU." he says- and abruptly grabs the special operative by the arm, tugging him in to mutter...none too subtly, really. This done- he proceeds to give Jazz a bit of a *shove* towards the Decepticons!

Grimlock mutters to Jazz, "... talkin'... OUT... IS."

Powerglide suddenly bolts upright, fists held high in the air. "NO! I DESERVE FIRST PRIZE! ME! ME! MEEE!"

Dee-Kal tips the jug of water, which is held over Powerglide's head.

The sheets will mysteriously translate into ribbons in a few pose rounds, although the paramecium may wind up getting the different categories mixed up in his cilia.

Fusillade grins at Windshear, "Oh, I PLAN on it!" she says with a grin, before downing the whole drink in one go. She glances around her booth, and starts stuffing bombs back into her torso, attracting a few gawkers in the process. She flips the corrugated tin sign over, and scrawls 'OUT OF BIDNESS' on it, and leaves to drink it up. "WHOA hey there, Jazz, sorry you missed out on the skulls and stuff I am done for the night. Next time!"

"That... would be the point," Fleet mutters as Catechism wanders off. He purchases another drink from the stand.

Shockwave takes the cleverly designed and machined folding case/booth and returns to his work in Cybertron Command.

"I had the best drawing!" Powerglide whines. "Also, WHY AM I WET?"

Catechism is only too happy to answer Windshear, "Shockwave played this video about hexagons, because he really digs hexagons, I guess," and it is horribly suspicious! "Then, Powerglide showed off this horrible Autobot propaganda of Cyclonus and Galvatron, uh... then Lord Galvatron cannoned the judge with all these FRACTALS. Then I got a drink." She beams. Then, Catechism pauses to look at Windshear, "Hey, nice design!" She waves as Fusillade makes a quick exit and Shockwave also departs.

"Powerglide, you got marked for standup comedy," Raid informs.

Powerglide gives Air Raid the finger.

Ultra Magnus looks from Powerglide crumpled in a heaped mess to Dee-Kal with blaster and jug 'o water. Sighing audibly, he cranes his neck forward "And what is the problem Dee-Kal?". Leaning back, the City Commander rests his chin on a hand propped up on the arm-rest.

Air Raid gasps.

"SIT ON IT AND TWIRL!" Powerglide barks.

Dee-Kal sets the jug aside, then stands over Powerglide, her tri blaster pointed squarely at his chest. She says nothing, but glances aside to Ultra Magnus.

Galvatron stands back from the pattern he made, rubbing his chin as he admires it for a while.

"..Well.." Grapple seems at a loss for words again as he stares at Powerglide. "..I believe I am no longer attending any events he intends to visit."

Windshear looks at Catechism. "There was a judge here? And Galvatron shot him? With fractals? Wow thats a lot of stuff I missed." He glances at his chest. "This is cool though so it was worth it." Then he decides he needs a drink and orders some highgrade himself. When he gets his glass he nods to Cate and starts walking around looking at different booths and such. He pauses at Fairways booth and looks at the paintings. The different worlds seem to disturb him somewhat, "And what made you paint these, Autobot?" he asks sipping his drink.

Well, now that things appeared to have calmed down, Grapple sits back in his booth and visibly relaxes. He doesn't even give Windshear more than a pleasent, casual gaze as he stops by Fairway's booth. At least this one wasn't waving bizzare, dangerous charicatures or wielding a giant cannon.

Fairway frowns just a little bit at Windshear. "I was inspired," he said, already tired of explaining this. He supposes this is something many artists deal with, and is proud to be experiencing it himself. "I saw these other worlds in a singularity."

Windshear nods a bit, "Ive ... seen other worlds myself..." He takes the hint that the Autobot doesnt seem to want to talk about it and moves onto to Grapples booth. He looks for a few moments, "Buildings.. thats your thing?"

Catechism nods along to Windshear, confirming, "Yeah! I think the fractals are still visible, but I wouldn't look at them too long." She follows Windshear back over to Fairway's booth, lagging a bit behind, and she suggests, "Red Alert's been to some other dimensions. Maybe you should hit him up, Delorean guy." It is difficult to say whether Catechism doesn't know Fairway's name or if she just doesn't care.

Grapple nods a little tiredly at Windshear, but still seems to be in a fairly pleasent mood. Nothing was exploding, at least. "Constructed out of various materials. These are only scale models, of course, but any can be altered to suit the needs of both environmental issues and personal tastes."

Powerglide crosses his arms and huffs. "I totally deserve a medal." He looks at Ultra Magnus. "Wouldn't you agree, sir??"

Dee-Kal glances skywards. Her tri blaster remains fixed on Powerglide. She looks back to Powerglide. The young Junkion flicks the safety back on her sidearm.... then smacks him lightly upside the head with the butt of her sidearm.

"Ow! What the crap!?" Powerglide rubs his head. "The hell was THAT for!?"

Fairway is a little disappointed that his distrust of Decepticons has resulted in a mech that may have been an admirer of his work being turned away. He lays out his painting supplies and sits down before his easel, feeling inspired again. He begins be coating the entire canvas with liquid clear, as he has seen Bob Ross do in ancient human videos.

Grimlock, having sent Jazz off on a SUPER SEEKRIT MISSION, tromptromtrpmps over towards...Windshear! Grimlock doesn't like that guy- then again, Grimlock doesn't like ANY decepticons, so tht's about standard. "HEY WAITERBOT. GO GET ME GRIMLOCK A DRINK." he rumbles.

"While I'm glad /someone/ is keeping an optic on Powerglide Dee-Kal, technically he hasn't done anything wrong to warrant such harsh treatment ... today." Ultra Magnus states calm and cool-like, pausing to take a sip from the ener-brew. It appears the City Commander is taking Jazz's advice to laser-core.

Looking back to Powerglide, "A medal? For what, passing out when Galvatron so much as looked at you crooked?" Ultra Magnus continues, leaning forward in the chair.

Windshear glances at Catechism, "I dont think I like fractals." he smirks and then listens to Grapple, "I can see the logic in that, Autobot. You seem proud of your skill from what I can tell. What does it do for you in battle exactly?"

"The Creator gave us two ends," Dee-Kal recites mildly. "One to sit on, one to think with. Ever since then success or failure has been dependent on the one used most." She looks back to POwerglide. Stowing her triblaster, the little Junkion relents and places a palm on Power's shoulder. She hauls him back to his feet.

"Hey! You'd do the same thing if you were me!" Powerglide snorts.

"MY LIFE FLASHED BEFORE MY EYES!" he adds.

The question appears to take Grapple aback. "It.." He gives Windshear a confused expression. "They're homes and constructs. It has nothing to do with battle."

Windshear listens to Grapple, "But anything can be used in .. battle.. surely you know this?" Suddenly the Seeker gets poked by something large, "Hey! I just got painted and just got my nose --" he sees Grimlock and stares, "What do you want?!"

Ultra Magnus chuckles, "I seriously doubt that, but your enthusiasm is nice Powerglide. Dee-Kal, even if the creator gave him two ends ... I don't think either one is for sitting or thinking."

Jazz not that he needed Grimlock's advice but it would have been more subtle to just let things flow. Jazz continues to walk around the place and heads over to Galvatron's handiwork of spiral sculpture. "Fascinating...Honestly did not expect such a big cannon to dish out this kind of precision. Definately need to write that down somewhere." He continues to examine and the design.

Powerglide looks appalled. "I'm right here you guys! Could you atleast wait until I leave before you start tearing me apart?"

Still, Grapple appears baffled. "Well.. I suppose the math behind basic constructs aids me in some way in battle, but otherwise.. These are intended for peace --" Then he noticed Grimlock. He only blinks.

"Unleaded." Grimlock says, and shoves Windshear again. "GO FAST WAITERBOT. OR YOU NO GET TIP." he nods at this, and this done, he looks to Grapple...and then down towards the display models. "Them buildings too small. How us Autobots s'posed to fit inside?"

Catechism leaves Windshear to Grimlock's devices. Instead, she grins at Grapple and his models, and she asks, "Soooo.... what kind of funding would you need to make these babies real?"

airway continues by applying a little bit of heat to his paint mixture. He then dips his brush into a pot of shimmering cerulean. The painting he starts will be something he has never done before - something abstract.

Grapple looks from Grimlock to Catechism; sudden attention! He decides to answer Grimlock first. "They're display models. Simply.. Examples of possible works." Then, to Catechism. "Actually, very little funding will be required. Many of the materials can be aquired from recycling centers. The funding would primarily go to the transportation and construction of the materials rather than the purchasing."

Windshear staggers back with his mouth agape. This Dinobot still thinks hes a 'waitorbot' ever since that encounter at the Steel Balloon. He starts to protest but Primus, he so does not want to get smashed. Muttering something in cybertronian the Seeker walks over to get a glass of 'unleaded' for the Dino and walks back shoving it in Grimlocks hand and just snears.

Darkwing decides that since things are winding down to pack things up, espcially since it seems that Dreadwind has shut up, meaning the dour jet has gone offline to recharge his gloom levels. It was going to be a long trip back. He grabs the now lukewarm Ener-beer that Dread hadn't touched, and downs it before hauling his bronzed brother back to Earth.

Dee-Kal says nothing. Her wings flicker and her optics twinkle, but she says nothing. Bowing mildly to Ultra Magnus, she merely watches as Powerglide makes his way to some place he can dry off.

Answering Grimlock first was probably smart, Grapple! Catechism considers Grapple's answer, rubbing her chin, "Recycling, you say? How... interesting." Decepticons do not so much recycle as they just smelt down live Transformers for fun and profit.

Grimlock gets a drink! Yay! He hmms, and takes a gulp of it- it might've been poisoned...but hey, Grimlock is fearless. And stupidly tough, to boot. "Hn." As Grapple goes on, Grimlock takes a moment to glare at Catechism- just on principle- and then he looks back at the models- he even pokes them with a motorcycle-sized finger. "Thems need more guns on them. And missiles."

Grapple nods to Catechism's comment. "There's a surprising amount of buildable materials that are discarded. Why waste perfectly good materials?" He then blinks at Grimlock. "Ah.. These would be homes, not.. Fortresses or even security offices."

Catechism has some blaster scorching on her frame, and when Grimlock glares at her, she puts her hands on her hips, and she protests, "Hey, you big lunk! I got up there, and I danced! What have /you/ done?" This was a very stupid move.

"You dance?" says Grimlock. He flexes his hands a bit, and looms over Catechism. "Me Grimlock no NEED do anything! Me Grimlock no ART GUY. Me Grimlock BEST FIGHTERER EVER." and he takes a step forward, looooming over the conefemme. "Want me Grimlock show you how good me fight?"

Uh-oh. Grapple waves his hands at the looming dinobot. "Ah.. Friend Grimlock, please.. Not on the booths. Many artistic endeavors may be destroyed..!"

Catechism shouts back, "Yes! I danced! Where everyone could see it! And you know what? I will take. You. On. Just not here. This is a neutral city. But we'll find a time and place!" This is also very stupid. BUT. If she distracts Grimlock with a duel, for, oh, even ten minutes, the other Decepticons can go get something productive accomplished without fear of Grimlock showing up while she gets her head beat in, yes?

Windshear puts some distance between him and the Dinobot and walks around looking at the different art booths.

Ultra Magnus stands, giving Powerglide's departure a slight nod before downing the rest of the ener-brew. "Apologies Autobots, but I must attend to my duties." Optics blinking once or twice, the City Commander steps out into the streets and meanders back towards Iahex and the space-bridge.

"OKAY." Grimlock says. "Me Grimlock fight you later!" he says- "And, uh. Him Waiterbot, too. 'cuz him jerk and me Grimlock need punch him." he nods, and just shakes his head. "Hnf. Me Grimlock bored now. Art thing am dumb."

Catechism is wondering if maybe that wussy drink wasn't so wussy, because what she is doing now is, in the words of Hugo Weavingtron, 'so unwise'. Either way, she shouts, "Art's not dumb!" Alas, the Dinobot is gone and cannot hear her. It's probably safer for Catechism that way, anyway.

Galvatron eventually walks away from his "art" piece, as if he could care less what happens to it at this point.

Windshear hears Catechism and heads back her way now that the Dinobot is gone. He asks suddenly, "I get the impression that you dont like to sky dance, do you?"

Catechism looks at Windshear, suddenly assuming an innocent expression, and she asks, "What would ever give you that impression?" Her optics cycle a few blinks.

Windshear says, "Just a feeling I got. Sky Dancing has its advantages but Im sure you know that.""

Catechism smiles faintly and nods, rubbing her elbow. She admits, "Yeah. I've actually learned a lot from it." Maybe she doesn't actually mind aerial dance, she admits to herself. Maybe she just mind the blackmail. And how it ruins her reputation. Hmm!

Windshear frowns as he watches her, "You seem self conscious about it though. It is none of my business to ask so I won't but it shows -- I would imagine that it showed when you were performing, though I only caught the last of it earlier."

Catechism shudders, and she shakes her head. "Windshear, when I'm performing, the /only/ thing I'm thinking about is the performance, because when I slip up," her hand moves to one of the blaster scores on her armour, "that happens." Maybe it does show, She doesn't know. She could ask Fleet, she supposes.

Windshear nods, "Excuse me for stepping out of my bounds then..." Hes not sure exactly how this officer likes to be addressed so instead of saying the wrong thing he'd rather be reprimanded for not acknowledging her rank at all.

Catechism does not terribly mind if people don't call her 'sir'. These things come and go like the tide. She says briskly, "There is nothing to excuse." It is almost as if she's talking about her own actions as much as she means Windshear's.

Windshear inclines his head slightly accepting her statement, "I take my leave then, good evening, Catechism." he turns and wanders back off to look around and what booths are left and finish his drink before he heads back to earth.

Catechism waves to Windshear and says, "Good cycle!" She, for her part, heads off toward the drinks booth. Blasted fractals. She's going to see them in her defragmentation nightmares, she just knows it. Fractals and bees.