Watching the Watchtower Builders

Tetrahex

Ayotzinco, once a mighty Militant metropolis, once a Mexican municipal, once a contested city, lies in ruins. Autobot traps could not keep the Decepticons out forever, and they have laid waste to the city. Where there was a sense of ancient majesty, that every rock and mound might be alive, there is instead just dust and scaffolds, the hallmarks of progress, relentless and ruthless.

Contents: Mixmaster Decepticon Heavy Warship Giant Fractal Structure

Obvious exits: Canal &lt;C&gt; leads to Nameless Canal. Out &lt;O&gt; leads to Mexico.

Fly &lt;Up&gt;

Fleet has arrived.

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; is out working on a tower! A tower shaped like Cyclonus's head Scrapper doesn't question these things. He just works. A piledriver machine is sinking the foundation bars that will let the watch tower rise in all its bifurcated glory. Scrapper, meanwhile, moves supplies ot where they need to be with his shovel.

Mixmaster has spent much of the day tending to a series of massive, bubbling cauldrons. The intense heat and noxious fumes are rising from boiling vats of metal, as Mixmaster takes samples and constantly adjusts various giant dials and levers. Normally he would just mix the chemicals personally, but the vast quantities required has led to him smelting it all externally. "Ugh, if only I had a lackey to deliver me chilled energon and some chips, smelting all of this the OLD WAY WAY is soo hoooooot."

Fleet is a lackey! But he's not psychic, so he doesn't suddenly pop out of nowhere and deliver chilled energon. Instead, he pushes a cart of supplies out from the Hellbender - he *would* carry them, but he's not particularly strong. He pauses and looks up at the Constructicons. "The, uhm, supplies requested."

Long Haul must be taking a vacation!

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; reminds cheerily, "That is Scavenger!" when Mixmaster complains. Scrapper scoots over to Fleet's cart, and he takes up a shovel full of supplies, easily carrying them. Strength is something almost all the Constructicons have in spades. Scrapper isn't the strongest, but he's no slouch. He moves efficiently, though he isn't fast, putting the panels just in the right place with a tilt of his shovel.

Mixmaster guess the rest of the Constructicons are off working on the canal. "Well Scavenger isn't /here/..." Mixmaster moans, his eyes falling on Fleet. He snaps his fingers! "Oh canaba boy! Bring me a refreshing drink! Lots of ice!"

Windshear has arrived.

Fleet steps away from the supplies, then looks at Mixmaster, frowning at the orders. "Ca... naba boy?" he asks, confused. Then he shrugs - the rest of the order is easy enough to interpret. He heads over to the dispenser set up (for the workers, or course!) and activates it. "Ice will be a problem, sir," he answers politely.

Windshear is flying along just on some boring patrol. As usual hes got earth rock music cranked up on his CD player in his cockpit and hes cruising along. He spots some cons below and decends to see whats up. &lt;"Whats up, cons?"&gt;

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; is hard at work, building a very purple tower. Judging by the piles of supplies, it's going to have red windows... odd. The skeleton of the structure is taking shape, and he's working on panelling the bottom portions.

"What do you mean ice is a problem?" Mixmaster replies, as he toils endlessly with giant levers and cranks and pressure guages. "Don't you have an ice knife or an ice beam or something? I've spent all day smelting this damnably PURPLE metal, and I need something COLD!" He snaps, as he begins the prcess of tipping over his gigantic vats of molten metal, slowly and carefully pouring the vats over into a series of molds.

Windshear decends further, transforms and lands. He looks at the tower taking shape and realizes his question was stupid. No wonder no one answered. "Anything interesting going on?" the Seeker asks as he turns off the CD.

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; points out, "Knives are for stabbing. What, do you want him to stab your drink? He could poke a hole in it. Then it would leak out on the ground, and where would you be, then?" He snorts at Windshear's question. "Always! Now get me that rebar, and it'll be even more interesting."

Windshear looks around as if to see who Scrapper might be pointing at other then himself. He sees no one and realizes hes just been made a helper... With a snort the Seeker grabs some rebar and hands it to SCrapper. Hes still annoyed with that Constructicon for playing with his audios tht night but he doesnt say anything for now.

Fleet has connected.

"Knifes function fine for STIRRING, they are perfectly shaped for stirring things in addition to stabbing!" Mixmaster retorts, as if he needs to explain /everything/ to these vision-lacking dullards. "And if you STIR with something exceedingly COLD you will cool it down! It's so OBVIOUS, Scrapper!"

"It's an energon dispenser. It dispenses energon. But if you really want me to freeze it first, so be it," Fleet shrugs as the cube fills up. Once it's done, he steps back and flips the hilt of his dagger out of his forearm and into his arm. He activates it and sticks it into the top of the cube. This instantly turns the entire cube of energon into a cube of energon ice. He deactivates the dagger (easier than withdrawing it at this point) and picks up the energon icecube, delivering it to Mixmaster.

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; messed with Windshear's audios because Darkwing, Windshear's boss, asked him to do something terrible to Windshear. He then told Harrow to check Windshear's audios, and presumablt she did and fixed Windshear. So no harm, no foul, right? Scrapper argues, "No, no. Knives are perfectly shaped for stabbing. Sometimes slashing, chopping, cutting, or piercing. Now, a /spoon/, that would be good for stirring. But Fleet doesn't use spoons as weapons. That would be silly. Can you imagine Fleet trying to murder someone with a spoon?"

Mixmaster takes his frozen energon, looking at it ruefully for a moment. "Not quite what i had in mind." He deadpans. "And YES, i can most definatly imagine Fleet going on a murderous spoon-fuel rampage! He just needs the right SPOON!" He adds, before returning to his latest batch of rapidly-cooling purple metal sheets. "This batch is nearly ready. If it didn't have to be so purple it wouldn't be so hard to smelt!"

Fleet shrugs both shoulders. "You did ask me to stir it with my dagger. And that's what my ice dagger does - it freezes things. It's not literally ice itself, it's, well, cold energy." Fleet doesn't get quite how it works himself. He's no technician!

Windshear frowns at the discussion of daggers and spoons and extracts his arm blades none threateningly. "These are good for anything I set them to...and I would imagine Fleets dagger is just as good and can make ice at that..." he smirks.

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; lays out the rebar with his shovel, somehow, and he calls, "Mixmaster, get over here and actually make some cement for once!" Mixmaster is unusual in that he is a cement truck that makes entirely non-cement products most of the time. "And don't be silly. Of course it has to be purple. If it was ORANGE, it would look like that hack Grapple made it. But hmm... a spoon rampage. Maybe we should test that. Arm both Fleet and Windshear with spoons and see how many Autobots die as a result."

Fleet frowns over at the payloader, then at Mixmaster. Then he glances at Windshear, and then back at Scrapper. "Would I be allowed to keep my guns? They're really my primary weapons, anyway.

Windshear looks at Fleet and then to the Constructicons, "Im not dumping my blades for... spoons..."

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; clarifies, "The kill only counts if it is a spoon-based kill. Scoop out a lasercore or something. But it can be a cold energy spoon, I guess," he concedes, at the end. "Aww, you have no passion for SCIENCE, Windshear! Go help Mixmaster with those purple panels."

"Only if i can develop some kind of devastatingSPOON LASER." Mixmaster adds, before trundling over towards Scrapper. While Mixmaster is only /pretending/ to be a cement truck, he can certainly whip uo some dandy cement when he needs to. He feeds some cement mix into the drum behind his shoulders, before transforming and rolling closer to Scrapper's forest of rebar. "Windshear, you have sufficient thermal resistance to handle the hot panels, give the frame a good kick and then pry the metal free!" Mixmaster transforms into a big ol' cement truck. And it's green!

Windshear opens his mouth to say something then changes his mind and looks over at Mixmaster. "They are all purple." he mutters as he heads over to Mixmaster and does whatever the Constructicons instructs him to.

"I can deal with a devastating spoon laser," Fleet answers almost absently. He glances around for something to use to look busy with before he can be ordered to do something (else) moronic.

Payloader &lt;Scrapper&gt; considers for a moment, "Yes, a devastating spoon laser would be acceptable, but you need to get some numbers in there somehow. And I just explained why they're all purple. Because orange is awful. Shards, people! Listen!" He transforms, rising up to his robot mode to lay some cable, commenting idly, "You sky jockies would be good for dropping off sensors." The totally unassuming lime green payloader unfolds to become Scrapper, the architect of destruction!

Yes. listen to Scrapper instead of Mixmaster. There are reasons why Mixmaster is not in charge. "Hmm, I wonder if I can get Astrotrain to bring me some moon cheese later." Mixmaster muses, while he begins pouring copious amounts of concrete into Scrapper's rebar, to form amazing reinforced concrete. Science!

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Mixmaster says, "Astrotrain!"

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Mixmaster says, "Bring me some cheese."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Astrotrain says, "Whaddaya want?"

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Mixmaster says, "from the moon."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Astrotrain says, "..."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Astrotrain says, "You stay outta my booze, green machine."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Scrapper says, "No, no, Mixmaster /makes/ the booze."

Fleet frowns at Scrapper warily, optics half narrowed. Idle comments like that are dangerous, but letting them rattle around in Scrapper's mind is even more dangerous. Who knows what else they may merge with? Best get the idea out now, while it's still in its infancy.

"Just, uhm, where should these sensors be dropped off?"

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Mixmaster says, "I'm great at parties."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Astrotrain says, "Might wanna check yer supplies then cause it sounds like he's been sampling too much."

Windshear just shuts up and does the work hes told to do, still wondering how he got roped into this.

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Scrapper says, "This is pretty normal for him."

&lt;Decepticon&gt; Mixmaster says, "What?"

Scrapper explains, "Some of them just float in the air, so they can just be dropped off in the sky. The rest of them need to be hidden in the surrounding areas. I have a list of the locations. It's a watchtower, so of course there must be sensors that report back to it, in case of sudden, unexpected Autobot attack." He continues to lay out electrical cable as he speaks.

"Ah, yes, I could posspibly do that, once I have a list," Fleet answers Scrapper, carefully and non-committally. "Are they already made?"

Scrapper wanders over to the plans, where they sit on their table, a reel over cable looped over one of his shoulders, and he thumbs down the plans to rest just below a list.

1 - Mexico

2 - Skies above Central America

3 - Mexican Coast

4 - Gulf of Mexico

5 - Gulf of California

6 - Panama Canal

7 - Nameless Canal

Scrapper says sheepishly, "We really do need to name that canal." Scrapper adds, "Yes, there's made. In boxes over there. Careful about them - they're a bit... fragile." He gestures.

Cement Mixer Truck &lt;Mixmaster&gt; finishes pouring concrete, which, when solidified, will become the impressive foundation that will bear the weight of the bifurcated tower. "Call it the MIXMASTER CANAL, named after the greatest chemest ever known!"

Fleet peers over Scrapper's shoulder (an easy task, because he's taller than Scrapper) and looks relieved. "Ah. That shouldn't be... too problematic." That is, probability of Autobot or EDC induced death is within reasonable limits.

Americon has arrived.

Windshear has been working, doing what he was assigned and listening to the conversation. "Name the canal after someone." he rumbles as he works.

Mixmaster has disconnected.

Scrapper is standing near the table with the plans, a reel of cable around one of his shoulders. The bifurcated purple watch tower is coming along quite nicely! He's also drafted some Seekers into doing menial labour, always a plus. Scrapper finally comes out and says it bluntly, "You could. Are you gonna? Or do I gotta see how many of these babies will fit inside Windshear?" He starts to pace over to a stack of boxes labeled 'fragile'.

"Name it Americanal!" someone yells. The exact origin of the comment is somewhat difficult to determine, though. Maybe he's hiding?

Windshear hears his name and pauses, "Huh?"

Fleet considers Scrapper's question. "That might be rather interesting, actually. Seeing how many fit inside Windshear, that is. But no, I'll help." Possibly not just now, because it means leaving the scene. But he'll help later. He frowns at the voice, and sighs. "I suppose it would actually work for this continent, but... why don't we just name it the Tetrahex Canal? Or... the Shark Shortcut?"

Scrapper rubs his chin. "Hmm... Mixmaster Canal... Americanal... Tetrahex Canal... the Shark Shortcut. I'll keep those in mind." Read: he'll put it up for vote, because for an imperialist society, the Decepticons do an awful lot of voting. He wanders back to the tower-to-be itself, continuing to work on the wiring, but he does shout, "Windshear! Why's it that when I reference jet jockeys, Fleet's the only one that answers? You got some identity issues goin' on?"

Windshear says, "Hey what about me? Windshear Canal doesnt sound that bad...."

"I do not like 'Shark Shortcut!' Maybe 'Sharkcut,' because it is a funny pun! Hahaha!"

Oh, that voice is coming from the patriotically themed cassette on Scrapper's shoulder. It's kind of like having a tick on you.

Windshear shrugs then, "I dont have an identity crisis going on. I know what I am and what I can do... I dont need to brag about it, just show it..."

Fleet tilts his head, a puzzled frown worrying at his lips. He turns that puzzled frown on Windshear. "I was bragging?" he asks, a bit confused. Then he turns and looks towards the voice coming from that cassette tape on Scrapper's shoulder. "Sharkcut? I suppose that works, too."

Fleet tilts his head, a puzzled frown worrying at his lips. He turns that puzzled frown on Windshear. "I was bragging?" he asks, a bit confused. Then he turns and looks towards the voice coming from that cassette tape on Scrapper's shoulder. "Sharkcut? I suppose that works, too."

Scrapper doesn't see how answering when addressed is bragging, but hey. He works on wiring in monitors, and he suggests, "Y'know what be excellent? If only I had a little eagle cassette, that I could take apart and use his tape reel to record all the data that comes into this monitoring post."

Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; laughs heartily. "That would be pretty awesome, wouldn't it? Alas, I am not in that mode right now, so you can't use me for that purpose! Oh well! I can call Laserbeak over, though, if ya want!"

Scrapper reaches up to try to grab Americon off his shoulder, exclaiming, "Fool! You're a cassette right now! That means your reels are just below the surface."

Combat: Scrapper sets his defense level to Fearless.

Combat: Scrapper strikes Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; with his Scavenging Snatch (Grab) attack!

Fleet watches Scrapper grab Americon with intent of dismemberment. He steps away, pondering whether it's safe to be a witness to something like this. There might be questions later...

Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; concedes as he is plucked, "Yes, that is true. However, my reels are small in this mode! Hence, not very useful for modern day Decepticon data storage! Maybe if I transformed?..."

Windshear does not even want to watch. He does not want to be witness to one of Soundwave's cassettess getting mangled so he keeps working on the tower doing whatever it is he was told to do.

Scrapper didn't fall off a dump truck, Americon. He's not that easily tricked. The Constructicon glowers, and he attempts to throw the cassette away. He demands, "Stop hitching rides on me! I'm not Soundwave! Even if I implausibly have a tape deck, despite not being a car. Make yourself useful and assist Windshear."

Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; is flung away and towards Windshear. He magnetically sticks to the outer hull of the tower near Windshear, whereupon he begins 'helping.' "'Sup. Come here often?" he says.

Windshear stops as a cassette eagle just suddenly latches onto the side of the tower hes working on. "What? Well I-- hey, No I dont come here often!" He cant beleive he almost fell for that and picks up a panal and lays it against the framwork and starts welding it in place. "If you are going to hang around make yourself useful and work on these welds, Americon." he rasps as he does his work. How di dthis happen? One moment he was riding the jetstream and the next hes making a building...

Fleet hmmms, and decides that now is a good time to start setting out those sensors. The Seeker goes and carefully takes the crate of fragile, fragile sensors. He starts to take off, then frowns. "Uhm... Scrapper, if these things are so fragile, what's to stop them from being destroyed by the Autobots? Or, say, a strong breeze?"

Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; replies cheerily, "OK!" and makes his way across the tower's wall by vibrating. As Windshear lays a panel against the framework, he pops out a teeny little laser turret and fires it at the seam. This might take a while.

Scrapper waves a hand dismissively and explains, "They're not /that/ fragile. And they're invisible, once you get them going. They're pretty nifty. You need specialised sensors to detect them at all, once active!"

"Ah!" Fleet answers, then nods. "All right, then. I'll get moving." And with that, he's gone. WOOSH!

Fleet has disconnected.

Scrapper wanders back off to the planning table, and he exposits, "I need to do some reports." So he does. For hours on end. Being a site boss involves that kind of thing.

Patriotic Cassette &lt;Americon&gt; has made about an inch in progress on that weld.

Windshear looks at how far Americon's gotten and just vents some air from his intakes. Well...he supposed the little con is doing the best he can and he gets to work welding the panel hes got set up right now.

You post your note about 'Tetrahex Status' in group 2 (Decepticon) as message #151

================================= Decepticon ================================= Message: 2/151                    Posted        Author Tetrahex Status                   Fri Feb 05    Scrapper -- It's a Scrapper, at a dusty planning table, next to a mostly-completed bifurcated purple tower. In the background, Fleet is taking off with a load of crates, and Americon is helping Windshear weld. Very slowly. Scrapper reports, "Tetrahex is coming along, now that Bonecrusher and I are not kidnapped by aliens! Lord Galvatron, I believe that we can move NCC to the Tetrahex base. Really, the only thing left to do on the canal is name it, and these are the, ah, suggestions that I received:"

Americanal

Mixmaster Canal

Tetrahex Canal

Shark Shortcut

Windshear Canal

Sharkcut

Hellion's Pass

"Also, the watch tower is coming along well, and I have enlisted the help of Aerospace in setting up the monitoring sensors. I'll get to the ball court next."

Blip

OOC: @mail Scrapper votes on the name of the canal.

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