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Who: Blueshift, Catechism, Comcast, Fleet, Excise, Mortex |
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Summary: When Blueshift, Catechism, Comcast, Fleet, Excise, and Mortex are dumped into the ocean by Blueshift's machinations, they are forced to improvise to escape.
Lookout Tower
The lookout tower is now closed against the oceans outside, making this room possibly the plainest in this entire city. In this mode, this room, with walls of polished blue metal, serves only as transport to the surface.
Obvious exits:
Up leads to Southwest Pacific.
Contents:
Fulcrum
Fleet
Comcast
Blueshift
Mortex arrives from outside.
The lookout tower! And Blueshift is swanning about like he owns the place, holding a 'BATLE PLEN' in his hand, and pressing buttons on a control panel, the entire lookout tower shaking. "Yesssss"
Catechism is about to launch out of the tower and go on patrol, the way that Decepticon jets do. She looks vaguely concerned as Blueshift makes the tower shake, and she suggests, "Ah... maybe you shouldn't be doing that." She really should be serious with herself - when is Bueshift /ever/ doing what he should be doing?
Fleet <Tetrajet> was just on his way to go on patrol. If it weren't for the fact that Blueshift had climbed in /after/ him, he would never have entered. The tetrajet manages to look nervous as the entire begins shaking. "I'm... pretty sure it's not supposed to do that," he observes.
<Decepticon> Buzzsaw plays some techno music and holos a silly looking Seeker doing the....you guessed it...the robot.
Blueshift shakes his head, and thrusts the battle plan in Catechism's face. "No Catechism, I have not forgotten my HORRID FAILURE of a draw against the cowardly plane Fleet..." he then notices Fleet with a start. "Uuuuh so I am demonstrating my tact and genius. I am reprogramming the launch tower to launch us to battle!"
Mortex , ever the prudent one, had come up to see what was going on. His work interrupted, he wasn't particularly happy about that (the fact that one of his optics is missing is basically a sure sign that whatever he was doing was particularly unpleasant), so his surprise doesn't really register too much when he finds Blueshift, well, doing whatever Blueshift is doing. However, being the prudent one that he is, Mortex makes certain his force field thrums to life the -second- the 'plan' is announced.
He makes his way over to the buttons, watching Blueshift carefully. "You do realize," he hisses, his voice like rusty hinges squeaking in a haunted house, "That this won't accomplish what you are hoping to do, yes?"
Mortex successfully activates a powerful protective forcefield around Mortex, shielding him from the next attack.
"If it helps, I lost against Bandit," the yellow and cyan tetrajet offers.
It probably doesn't help.
Catechism scratches the side of her cone, and she points out, "Uh... the tower already takes us to the surface. I really think that's good enough. Less shaking that way." She looks around nervously and quickly waves to Fleet and Mortex.
Comcast is standing in the Lookout Tower of New Crystal City. That large dent in the back of his head has been beaten out, although the hole that was drilled in to pull the dent out is still there. Presumably he wants to look out.
But perhaps not.
Suddenly, the tower starts shaking as Blueshift presses buttons and acting like he's a Megatron that is/was never part of this place's theme. "Blueshift if you are going to conduct insane alterations without authorization at the risk of many of your fellow Decepticons, at least do it properly and get transferred to MSE first." When he notices his fellow Seekerkind he offers a polite wave.
Excise arrives from outside.
Blueshift gives a thumb up. "I did TRY to get into MSE, perhaps this will show them my technological genius!" he grins, as he presses another button. "ENGAGE ARTIFICIAL GRAVITY!"
The gravity in the room suddenly /triples/
Blueshift staggers about slightly under the pressure. "Do not fear Mortex! This will revolutionise Decepticon warfare forever!"
"You don't actually have to /say/ the button as you /press/ it-oh-GAAH!" Comcast's snide response gets delayed as the pressure nearly knocks him over. "I just wanted to look out somewhere! Can't you wait for this!?"
Fleet <Tetrajet> is a tetrajet, hovering using his antigravs as he waits for the tower to open. When gravity triples, he immediately falls to the platform floor with a loud *CLANG!!!* "Hey!" he shouts. "We already had enough real gravity, thanks!"
Mortex seems mostly unbothered, but then, that might because his joints are all backwards-flipped and reinforced for just such an occasion. After all, one doesn't pry one's own body open and start messing around in there without some reflection first. His arms cross as his cloak folds about him, and he crouches a bit to allow the cloak to take the brunt of the force.
"I am hardly fearful of your technological fallacies." He replies smoothly. "Allow me to repair this."
Catechism clatters to the floor when the gravity triples and mumbles, rubbing the back of her head and mumbling. She suggests, "Uhm... yeah. Let Mortex do his job, Blueshift. He knows things." Creepy things.
Blueshift shakes his head. Slowly. Painfully. "Nono, it is correct. Like a spring, the more gravity, the faster we will go!" He shouts the last bit as she tower shakes more. He then looks to Mortex. "Don't be scared skeletor!"
Excise shows up at the Lookout Tower as if by magic. Perhaps he is secretly a ninja? Standing next to Comcast, the Decepticon triplechanger holds on tightly to a nearby guard rail (Decepticon OSHA compliance?) as Blueshift starts screwing around with the controls. "The slag are we trying to do here?" He asks Comcast
Mortex simply -stares- at Blueshift out of his one functioning optic. His head has by now started to bend back in a most disturbing way, though that may be because of the hinge system installed to allow him to go limp in situations such as playing dead.
"Your logic is pathetic."
The room starts to shake even more. Blueshift attempts to hold onto a guardrail of his own, but it was only a fake guardrail designed to fool safety inspectors. "Nyaaaah!" he cries as above them the shaft opens, showing lovely deep blue. "ARE YOU READY?" he shouts
"What?! No! Blueshift, the gravity is still holding us inside the tower!" Fleet the tetrajet protests, since otherwise he *would* be ready to take off, what with being in the right mode and all.
Catechism is still stuck on the floor, but she cries out, "No. No! That's water out there!" And, despite being a Marine Corps plane, Catechism and water do not agree at all.
Mortex very wisely latches onto the floor below him, his clawlike feet digging into the metal with a most unnerving ripping sound as his head falls all the way back, like a broken neck, hanging there most unfortunately. The rest of his body, too, has gone limp, except for his cloak and legs.
Excise laughs at Mortex's words. "Ha ha ha, he sassed you pretty good!" he tells Comcast. If Comcast is nice and close he may even elbow him a few times just to demonstrate what a sass it was. Excise doesn't know everyone's names yet, but he's a good judge of character and he can tell who the cool dudes are in this group. Clearly, it is Mortex. Excise can't help but notice that there seems to be some disagreement about technical issues. No worries, as Excise is more than just a pretty face. He is a technical whiz as well.
"REALLY NOT." Comcast yells. He even tries to shoot Blueshift! But between the gravity impacting his ability to aim and SOMEONE nudging him at an inopportune moment, the shot goes bad and rebounds around the room a few times.
"No, its the sky, the sky is blue!" Blueshift cries out. "And now, I will..." But we never know what happens next, since Comcast's shot hits Blueshift, sending him into the control panel, reversing the gravity and shooting the entire contents of the room outwards like a gigantic cannon. But to where! :O
Fleet <Tetrajet> finally gives up and transforms, clinging to the floor, in order to more easily avoid things like, say, stray shots and whatnot. "Comcast! Watch it!" he exclaims.
Combat: Fleet <Tetrajet> transforms into his Fleet mode.
Mortex is -ripped- out of the floor panel, soaring upwards like a limp, broken doll.
Excise lets go of the guard rail in order to protect himself as Comcast's ricochet goes careening around the room. "Gah!" he exclaims. About a hundredth of a second later, Excise discovers that letting go of the guard rail was a bad idea. With a large crash, the triplechanger is pinned to the ground in an embarassing position. His optics widen as he thinks back to all the fun times he had while not on the front lines.
Blueshift heads outside.
You leave the Lookout Tower.
Perimeter
A dark shape looms in the water, beckoning through the depths to a shallow precipice. At first, it looks like another shipwreck, but moving closer, enough light filters through from the surface to show a much more intriguing treasure. Forgotten towers and crumbling walls rise up from the silt, their surfaces dotted with patches of coral and undersea life. Cracked tiles and shiny bits of obsidian can still be seen decorating some of the structures, and other, highly tarnished adornments could be made of silver or even gold. On the east-facing wall of the city, between the remnants of two towers, an impressive archway still rises above the ocean floor. Through this cracked, but still beautifully tiled structure, the rest of the lost city beckons...
Contents:
Blueshift
Obvious exits:
Opening <U> leads to Below the Western Atlantic.
West <W> leads to Grand Archway.
Fleet arrives from the Lookout Tower.
Fleet has arrived.
Comcast arrives from the Lookout Tower.
Comcast has arrived.
Mortex arrives from the Lookout Tower.
Mortex has arrived.
Excise arrives from the Lookout Tower.
Excise has arrived.
THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
The mangled form of Blueshift arcs through the seas, until he slams down head-first in a sandbank, his upper body buried. An octopus slouches over to him, wrapping his tentacles around his leg. "Nyaaaagh!" he cries. "QUINTESSONS!"
<Decepticon> Blueshift says, "QUINTESSONS!"
<Decepticon> Excise says, "Huh?"
<Decepticon> Blueshift says, "Its GOT ME"
<Decepticon> Redshift says, "Rip off it's face.. s. Faces!"
<Decepticon> Excise says, "Quintessons don't exist. There's normal Transformers, Triplechangers, and the odd Sixchanger, but that's it."
Catechism is sent flailing into the ocean by Blueshift's inept machinations. She hits the sand hard, taking some damage, and water quickly leaks in through the cracks, causing shorts and various internal mayhem. It's not life-threatening yet, but it's certainly a pain. Catechism groans and tries to cover one of the bigger cracks with a hand, for what good it'lls do.
Mortex slams into the water cloak-first; the forcefield around him strains under the weight, but eventually, he bumps to a halt, thumping on the ocean floor once, twice, three times, a broken puppet without weight. A moment later, he stands, drawing his optic from his cloak - a very grotesquely mangled optic piece forcibly pressed into his head and sealed with his medical laser embedded in his fingers.
<Decepticon> Mortex says, "It isn't a Quintesson. It's an Earth Octopus."
<Decepticon> Excise's optics narrow. You can hear it, "So far, anyway..."
<Decepticon> Catechism says, "...uh, Quintessons so exist. Where'd you come from, under a rock, Excise?"
<Decepticon> Mortex says, "This is why you should -study- lesser life forms instead of simply blasting them out of existence."
<Decepticon> Blueshift says, "I do, I study seekers!"
<Decepticon> Excise says, "Yes sir. Outpost 24601, stationed on Asteroid designated 3321NCC287B."
<Decepticon> Mortex says, "Yes, and we've seen how scientifically knowledgeable you are already today."
As Fleet is essentially fired out of the Lookout Tower against his will and into the water, he instinctively pulls his knees to his chest and wraps himself up in a 'cannonball,' though the trip still wrecks his wings. When he can finally recover, he's at the ocean bottom. He stands and straightens, looking around, then up. He tries to activate his anti-gravs, but they aren't designed for operations underwater. He sighs and looks around at the others. "Any ideas?"
Mortex waves his clawed fingers as his cape seals up. "I could always perform emergency surgery on at least one of you," Mortex offers, eyeing Blueshift. "Perhaps a forcible lobotomy of some form..."
<Decepticon> Buzzsaw, to Mortex's question, shows a cartoony holo of BLueshift with a weird looking face, using hammers on a seeker body.....with the caption of 'Study?' next to it.
<Decepticon> Mortex lets out a shrieking, piercing laugh, the rusty-gears-grinding-against-each-other sound echoing in the backdrop.
A cloud of sand is kicked up around Blueshift as he struggles with the octopus, completely unable to get any traction in the water. And then he starts to float, his body useless in the current. "Eh, at least I got rid of that octopus" he mutters, as he twists, revealing the octopus latched onto his back.
"What devilish place is this? It isn't space or sky!"
Excise is hurled through the water. He does his best to hold his breath, but strangely this does not help him. Landing in the shallows, just off the beach, the triplechanger thrashes about, splashing water all over. "Gah! What incompetence! Someone should gut that Blueshift!" He manages to stand upwards, but is still thrashing, frightened that water is getting through his armour and ruining his circuits. "Consider it a volunteer mission, boss!" he tells Catechism.
<Decepticon> Fulcrum says, "Ugh, what was that?"
Mortex brushes his fingers across his forehead as he stops laughing, slowly tilting himself back to normal and resuming his polished demeanor. "It's underwater," He informs Blueshift simply, "Beneath the sea."
Comcast isn't nearly so graceful, arms flailing the whole way. Though it places strain on his systems, the resistance does help slow him down. Eventually he crashes in the general area of Excise, if not on Excise himself
He gets up quickly and looks around. "So THIS is what it looks like under here."
<Decepticon> Redshift says, "... What are you doing, Blue?"
Catechism get to her feet slowly, a cloud of sand wreathing her. There is a city around them - ancient, looks like. No one is dead. Blueshift is being attacked by an octopus. Lovely. She pinches the bridge of her nose, thoroughly disgusted, and she notes, "Interesting... were the water level lower, or did this place sink? Or was it built underwater? Hmm."
Blueshift lifts an arm clumsily in the murky water. "Under the sea" he mutters in response to Mortex. "...Under the sea. Do you believe it is better where it is wetter?"
Mortex simply stands there, his head rotating about, the patch-job optic hanging from his skull like an eye by a thread. Ew.
Slowly, he focuses on Blueshift, simply staring at him, and lets out another of those horrific rusty-gear-grind cackles, his claws clicking together from the safety of his forcefield. Sure, he couldn't exactly fly out of here, but at least he was with a couple idiots to amuse the crap out of him.
Blueshift stares out into the gloom of the underwater. "Or Catechism, maybe the humans built it down here, they are like, 60 percent water anyway!"
Excise, who is also underwater, sinks. Cause he is underwater. His thrashing comes to a halt as his feet touch the 'ground'. "This is terrible!" he transmits. "None of us can swim, and the Seacons are still evil." Excise jogs along the underwater sandbank (in slo-mo) to catch up to the others, gazing at the city.
"Humans don't -breathe- underwater. They drown." Mortex adjusts his optic to focus on Blueshift, hanging it over his skull as he faces the other way. "They die."
Catechism flicks on her running lights, trying to get a better look around here. One of her running lights gutters out, but the red one manages to stay on, though it flickers, casting crimson shadows in the deep. She muses, "You know, they say there's sunken treasure under the sea. I wonder if this place has any loot." Decepticon is just a stone's throw from pirate. She snaps as Blueshift, cross, "I asked it was built underwater!"
Fleet frowns and /stares/ at Mortex's antics, then takes a few slow, slow steps away. He glances back at Blueshift. "And yet, despite that, they can't survive underwater, so if it was built here, it wasn't by humans."
Fleet wanders near Comcast and peers at the back of his head. "Excuse me, Comcast, but do you know you have a hole in the back of your head?"
Mortex sits down on the ocean floor (well, on his forcefield's floor). The Necrocon's eyes sweep over his form for a moment before his hand slides away, a buzzsaw extending itself quite calmly; with an equally detached calm, he activates the surgical tool, digging it into his arm and slicing off a long piece of his bone-like metallic skeleton. "Hm-hmmm." He murmurs, "Hm-hm. Are any of you capable of finding metal?"
Blueshift starts to flail towards the murky city. "There's probably people living there right now!" he announces as he trudges across the ocean floor. "I bet they'll have dry stuff an-" His clumsy bouncings are halted by a sudden burst of energy, as a lightning fast laser arcs out of the gloom towards him, striking him flat
Comcast apparently doesn't land on Excise! Suddenly, he panics at Fleet's remark and covers the drilled-out hole with his hand. "Uh... I'm not sure how watertight I am..." With that he tries to engage his anti-gravs. They don't work! But to look at him, you wouldn't see that. You see Comcast crouch down slightly, then leap upwards. He goes approximately five feet in the air before falling down, face first, into the sand again.
Catechism watches Mortex, perplexed. What in the dickens is he doing? She shakes her head and says, "Detect metal? Aside from /looking at it/? No. I'm not Scavenger." Then, a laser shoots Blueshift. people down here are frustrated with him, too! She immediately drops an hits the sand, anticipating more fire.
Zip! Zip! Zip! More lasers arc out of the murky depths, with fast reflexes shooting out into the gloom, though out of range of the other Decepticons
Mortex looks up at the explosion, Comcast's fall, and the general events. Well, more specifically, he tilts his head up from his apparent self-mutilation, his buzzsaw receding as he dips into his personal workings and pries out a pretty important-looking piece. His arm goes limp, and he holds it up as he crouches at an odd, bird-like angle to avoid getting his himself. "Unfortunate." He murmurs. "Are any of you willing to be cut open for a brief moment? I have an idea."
Fleet dives to the ocean floor, hitting it about the same time as Comcast, but a bit more intentionally. He hisses in frustration. "I feel so blasted sluggish do- youch!" he shouts as one laser strikes the topside of a broken wint.
Catechism is glad that she hit the deck, and from the sandy seafloor, she looks up at Mortex skeptically and asks, "Why do you need to cut one of us open? Won't that just let more water inside?" She's already full of gross seawater due to the cracks and feels rather wretched.
Blueshift slowly struggles to his feet, flakes of armour hissing off him. "NO!" he exclaims. "You'll get me all salty!" He turns to scowl at the lasers. "If I could /fly/ properly, I could easily dodge those. If only there was a way!"
Comcast gets up just in time for laser fire to whizz past. "That wasn't me this time!" He calls out to anyone who is paying attention as he ducks back down agan. "Wait.. does /anyone's/ weapons work here?"
Mortex locks his optics on Catechism, removing his eye and drawing out a very long wire from his skull. A brief attachment later, and his forcefield flickers a bit stronger, expanding a slight bit. "My forcefield generator - or at least one of them - requires a stronger force of power to cover all of you," he replies in that cool, detached, Hannibal Lector fava-beans-and-a-nice-chianti tone. "But it is your choice."
Fleet points to Comcast from his place on the ocean floor. "He already has a hole in his head. Why don't you cut him open?" he suggests to Mortex.
"I hear that. Most Decepticons aren't." Excise tells Comcast, "Seaspray's let the Autobots rules the seas for a reason, you know." Decepticon Intel is spotty out on the fringes. When an energy burst fries Blueshift, Excise hits the dirt. He reaches for his electro-rifle as laser bolts soar over his head. No good can come from this. "I support any plan that involves cutting," Excise chimes in. "Unless it's me getting cut. I nominate Blueshift." All in favour?
Blueshift takes out his laser and shoots it, managing to electrify the water in his immediate vicinity. He gives a little scream. "Nyaaah yes, cut open Comcast, I will help!"
"That's one vote for Blueshift and one vote for Comcast," Excise says, looking at the others expectingly.
<Decepticon> Blueshift says, "Ready Comcast's life insurance!"
Catechism suggests quickly, "Blueshift." More expendable. They have Redshift if they break Blueshift, but they don't have Twincast if they break Comcast!
Mortex delicately hooks another of his eye-wires into the force field. Another ripple, and it expands - or at least expands enough for him to operate a little more carefully. "I don't care," he replies calmly, "I simply need a stronger generator than I can provide alone." A third wire in, and he finally has room for a second person to enter the force field and be sliced open, if the pushing against the current is any indicator. His working optic focuses on Catechism. "Am I to assume, then, that my plan is approved?"
Catechism nods vehemently and agrees, "Yes! Cut up Blueshift. He's already been shot. I don't see how you can..." she trails off. 'make it worse'. Nope, not going to say that.
"Yooooou!" Blueshift points at Catechism, as some of his circuits start to fry as the water gets in. "Yoooou said my name twice. You don't get two votes!"
"Blueshift. BLUESHIFT!!" Comcast isn't panicking, no sir.
Blueshift points at Comcast. "You don't get two votes either!"
Comcast says, "But I get one vote for you and one ANTI-Vote for me, right?"
Blueshift considers this for a moment. "Yes" he glubs. "Yes you do"
Excise looks expectingly at Fleet. Unless she votes for Comcast, then Blueshift will have 'won'. Else we have a tie and Mortex will have to not be a dirty fence-sitter.
Catechism points out, "Actually, I'm the Air Commander. That gives me, oh... approximately /infinity votes/. They're called orders, not votes, though."
Mortex sighs, or at least, his jaw drops open and hangs there. "I don't care which of you does it. Both of you do it. Now one of you come here - the second generator will provide enough push to enable us to function at least slightly better under the water. In fact, both of you would be a great benefit towards ensuring the full strength."
Fleet is not a she. Also, he already 'voted.'
"I would!" Blueshift mutters, looking around himself in panic. "But uh, if Mortex makes me into a creepy sea spider, then who would be the best looking Decepticon! It would cause chaos!"
Mortex makes an irritated sound as he stands. "Very well. Blueshift doesn't need to benefit from my aid. Clearly, he doesn't trust my skills."
Excise tsks, "Well the Air Commander has spoken and she gets infinity votes (or 'orders' as she prefers to call them)." He glances over at Blueshift. Weaponsfire is still blasting over him. "Sorry Blueshift, you're the subject." He then addresses Comcast, "You really dodged a laser there." Double-meaning?!
Fleet twitches as water starts to seep in from the joints. He looks around at the others. "Erm. Ice floats, doesn't it?"
"No it sinks" Blueshift says sagely
Comcast's arm lasers aren't working, slag it all. But he has non-laser weapons too! He gets up and activates his sonic shriekers at the assailaints...
...and hooray for how well sound travels in water, now everyone nearby is temporarily deafened! Yay!
Mortex ...immediately stows his forcefield generator back into his arm. This has, of course, the utterly horrific effect of having wires from his head attached to his arm, making him look like an utterly disgusting beast; he waves his free claw at Fleet. "Ice floats. Do you have a plan, since Blueshift is such a coward?"
Catechism clamps her hands over her audios and rolls around in the sand, deafened. In Standard Decepticon Sign Language, she makes it known that Comcast's creation factory produced rubbish bootlegs with cheap gold plastic.
"GAAAAH!" Fleet exclaims as Comcast deafens him. He *glares* at Comcast. "What is this, a do your own sonar?!" he complains, although he can't hear his own words, nor can he hear Mortex's question. Still, he explains to any who can hear them, "I can try my freeze ray..." With that, he pulls himself to a kneeling position and starts to power up his shoulder-mounted rifle.
Mortex makes a vague motion with his hand, his mouth opening and closing. Sound may be coming out, but he'd be damned if he can hear it. However, that seems to have torn his decision - he moves for Blueshift like a spectre of death, buzzsaw activating soundlessly from his hand to cut Blueshift's head (or appropriate object open) and pull some wires out for a generator boost.
Excise clutches his audio circuits and writhes on the ground as Comcast helps out. "Ahhh! Turn it off! Turn it off!" He shouts, though he can't be heard over Comcast's Comcasting.
"I'm not a coward!" Blueshift snaps at Mortex. "I'm an OH PRIMUS MY MIND!" He flails as Comcast deafens him, and makes his own sign language at Comcast. And then Mortex uses the distraction to cut his head open.
"Nonono I keep all my stuff in there!" he yells
Catechism crouches and shuffles over nearer to Mortex. If the medic really needs a generator, she'll offer herself up if Mortex isn't able to cut Blueshift up and thereby use him. They need to get out of here some way, after all! And what's Fleet doing? She hasn't a clue. She can't hear anyone.
Comcast comcast looks at everyone. Some are making hand gestures, some of them are talking. But for some reason, he cannot hear them! "WHAT?!" He yells at them.
Mortex seems to have absolutely no problem with Blueshift's stuff being in his head as he pries out a few power wires, linking them directly into his generator-piece. Suddenly, the force-field literally doubles in size, both Decepticon power systems rerouted into the energy field, pushing the water back like a massive wave, encompassing the rest of his allies in a mercifully dry bubble of energy.
They may be deaf, but at least they're -dry- now.
A small glowing ball of circuits falls out of Blueshift's head to be lost in the depths of the ocean. "Was... was that important?" Blueshift stammers
That was probably just his conscience, nothing important.
"Wait! No!" exclaims Fleet. Not that anyone can hear him. He then moves to the edge of the bubble and tries to poke his rifle (and therefore arm) through it.
Mortex calmly replies "No."
Fleet's arm /does/ poke through the forcefield, back into the water. He starts to fire his freeze ray, one that he is attached to. "You guys may want to find a way to hold onto this thing," he says through gritted teeth as he keeps firing.
Excise blinks with relief as suddenly he and the others are enveloped in a nice protective forcefield. He uncovers his audio sensors. This turns out to be a mistake, and so he covers them up again. He can be seen mouthing 'Turn it off!' at Comcast repeatedly, though he cannot be heard. Therefore it is possibly he is actually saying 'Burn it hot', though this is less likely.
Catechism can't hear anything. However, she does pull out her hooked grappling line as Fleet starts to make ice, which seems to be... buoyant? She tries to push the hook through the bubble and hook it to the ice.
Within the dry area, COmcast's audio intakes start to right themselves. "Who knew Water would have done that to sound!" He asks, incredulously. And then turns to Fleet. "Hold on to what....? /oh./"
Blueshift is deaf, has his head cut open with wires poking out, has probably just lost his brain or soul or something, AND still has an octopus attached to his back. "Guh-wah?" is all he can reply to Fleet with
Comcast retrieves his dagger and intends on using it to find a grip on the ice.
Mortex digs his feet into the ice, the claws linking in much as they had with the metal in the tower.
Fleet continues to fire, the ice thingy getting larger and larger. His other hand is free, so he can grab ahold of someone if need be. But does he really /want/ to save Blueshift or Excise?
Excise doesn't seem aware of Fleet's ethical dilemma. He is still deaf thanks to Comcast, and he looks like he's assuming that Fleet will save him along with everyone else.
Fleet gives Excise a chance. At this point, the ice is starting to float up, and will be dragging the group with it. He holds his free hand up. Excise better grab now! The Iceburg choo-choo is leaving the station!
Blueshift starts to slip as the ice grows, the wires on his head jerking. "Nnnnn!" he bellows, his hands flailing as if trying to throttle someone. Anyone.
Comcast digs his dagger into the ice and holds on tight.
Catechism gets throttled by Blueshift. Ow. Since she has her hook sunk into the ice, that means that Blushift is in less danger of slipping. Grumbling, she duly attempts to slap Blueshift back.
Mortex links his cloak mostly-shut again, crouching onto it as he had before. Thank God for a lifetime of potentially-crazy self-mutilative tactics and preparations for a whole host of situations.
And a knife-obsession of epic proportions...
Excise lunges, grasping, towards Fleet's outstretched hand. Thus forces him to finally let go off his audio circuitry, at least. The triplechanger's fingertips graze Fleet's for a split second before he manages to reach up with his other arm and snag onto his wrist. "Made it!" Excise proclaims.
Blueshift is slapped as the wires in his head jerk again. "Am I dead yet!" he gasps
Fleet is going to want to kill Excise when he finds out about Excise's third mode. Just so you know.
The chunk of ice, dragging a flock of Decepticons, floats towards the surface. Fleet is no longer firing... in fact, he's pretty low on energy, and is just hanging on. Excise will have to hold on to Fleet's arm on his own, as the Seeker is too worn to hold the other up.
Blueshift tries to cling onto the shaking ice as it rises to the surface. But he fails and starts to slide about, bashing into Catechism. "Slow down! Slow down!" he shouts to Fleet
Excise's grip is pretty strong, and he reaches up with his other free hand to grab Fleet's arm again, this time further up. Slowly but surely he pulls himself up by climbing Fleet's arm. Making it onto the ice (henceforth known as the Icemobile), the triplechanger gives Fleet a grateful look. "Thanks!" he says. Letting go, he starts to slide off the ice again. "Ah, help! Help me, Fleet! Help!"
Catechism gets out her whip. If Excise and Mortex have a thing for knives, she seems to have an abundance for rope-like objects. She then attempts to lasso the slipping Blueshift. Why save Blueshift? Because she likes making people suffer.
"If you can FIND the drive mechanism on this /block of ice,/ Blueshift," Comcast snaps, "Then you are welcome to slow it down!" He holds on as tight as he can as the ice hurtles upward.
Fleet sighs, and makes a grab for Excise. "By the eigth!" he exclaims. "Aren't you the one always talking about cutting things? Don't you have something to dig in with?"
Excise is grabbed by Fleet. Having reconnected with him, the triplechanger starts climbing up again. As he does so, he gives his fellow Decepticon a queer look. "Now I love cutting things, but I'm not going to cut you just so I can get a better grip, Fleet."
Blueshift has left.
Fleet has left.
Western Central Atlantic
The Atlantic here is warmer than it is to the north. Clouds drift by lazily above as the weather here is usually nice and balmy. Cruise ships occasionally pass by, heading towards the Caribbean or towards Europe. Yet as you draw closer to the North American continent, a colder current suddenly dominates, the darker blue of the Gulf Stream moving swiftly through the water.
Contents:
Fleet
Blueshift
Barbados
Obvious exits:
North <N> leads to Northwest Atlantic.
Northwest <NW> leads to Gulf of Mexico.
Southeast <SE> leads to Southwest Atlantic.
East <E> leads to Central Atlantic Ocean.
West <W> leads to Caribbean Sea.
Fly <Up> Dive <D> Florida <FL> Trinidad <TD>
Mortex has arrived.
Comcast has arrived.
Excise has arrived.
Fleet wishes he had an arm free to facepalm with.
Mortex immediately disconnects Blueshift from his arm, replacing the wires into their proper areas and sealing up his head-place carefully. Prying the wires from his arm, he reattaches his optics, popping it back into his face and sealing up his arm (well, replacing the hunk of metal he'd stowed in his cloak). "There."
Blueshift lies upon the top of Fleet's iceburg, looking rather the worse for wear as water seeps out of him. The octopus actually looks far better than he does
Comcast emerges as the water runs off him. There is a considerable amount of water still in his head, which spends some time pouring out. A little more water will slosh out every time he turns his head quickly to boot.
Fleet is still hanging onto his iceburg with an arm stuck in it. Once things start melting, he'll be able to get free. Or if he decides to vent heat. But really, he's hoping they can find some land before things melt too far. "Well, /that/ could have gone a lot better." He pauses. "We have an underwater base. Why do /none/ of us know how to operate underwater?"
Water pours out of the cracks in Catechism's frame, though she still feels unpleasantly sloshy. She groans and puts away her whip, now that Blueshift is 'safe'. Sighing, she exclaims, "I /gotta/ get water-proofed!"
Mortex taps the side of his skull with his clawlike finger. "I have some equipment in a lab to handle that."
"Assuming you are willing to allow me to install such features," he adds, noting the general fear of his practices by the Decepticons.
"Yeah, but you're, erm, kind of creepy, Mortex. No offense," Fleet points out, hanging idly from the iceburg. Then he considers. "On the other hand, I was once upgraded by the Fallen. Can't get much worse than that."
Blueshift slowly sits up. "I demand to be the best at operating in this wet stuff!" he announces to the world
Excise uses Fleet as a rescue rope once again, making it back up onto the ice. "Thanks!" he says to Fleet. Once again he lets go, but luckily everyone is mostly safe by now. "Because underwater missions come up practically never, Fleet," he explains. "It would be a waste to have soldiers dedicated to it."
Excise folds his arms, "You guys are all morons for wanting water upgrades."
Mortex rubs his chin with those claws again. "I have never allowed anyone to die on my operating table, you realize." He answers calmly. "I would be happy to upgrade all of you...for absolutely no cost."
"So you dump them off the table first?" Fleet asks. He starts to pull his arm out of the iceburg - it seems to be melting in the tropical waters.
Catechism stares over at Mortex. She's never let him work on her yet, but he did a pretty good job in the leech cavern. She shakes her cone, some more water sloshing out. She's thinking about this. She's seriously thinking about this. Finally, Catechism agrees, "Let's do this."
Mortex gives a gleeful cackle, rubbing his claws together in that way that -really- makes people tend to regret saying 'okay' the second he does it, like a mad scientist plotting over a corpse of a particularly interesting subject. "Excellent. If we could simply return to the city, I have all the tools I require in my laboratory."
Blueshift cannot respond, for he has passed out. And the octopus is sleeping on his face
"Sounds good," Comcast says as he pulls himself up. He peers at the passed-out Blueshift and considers kicking him back in.
Comcast has left.
Fleet ascends to the Skies above the Western Atlantic.
Fleet has left.
Mortex ascends to the Skies above the Western Atlantic.
Mortex has left.
NCC Medical Ward
Like its previous incarnation, this medical ward was designed with the medic in mind, with all the modern advances to make the dirty work of repairs a world easier. It is well lit, the blue and violet metal of the walls and decor is a shade paler here, and the ubiquitous filigree is missing, all to assist in ease of cleaning. Still, the place veritably sparkles. In the furniture, there is a subtle motif of blades and sharp edges, as if to evoke the scalpel of a surgeon, although it is all quite safe. Around two dozen beds, more comfortable than their sharp looks would suggest, fill the medical ward, laid out in a tidy grid, and more can be flipped out of the walls should emergency demand it. A set of tracks on the ceiling mirror the grid of beds, allowing advanced scanning equipment and tolls to be swiveled around to the various beds. Computer terminals and cabinets are molded right into the walls at intervals, and while there are the normal medical security cameras, it appears as if someone has set some of the cameras specifically to watch the cabinets.
Contents:
Excise
Fleet
Dead Bodies
Grey Book Of Primus
White Book Of Primus
Shockwave's laboratory <lab>
Gumby Medic <NCC>
Medical Rules
Scrapper's Art <SA> - Sixteen Pieces(#6707)
Obvious exits:
South <S> leads to NCC Spinal Pathway.
West <W> leads to NCC Arena.
Mortex has arrived.
Mortex enters the room, drying himself off with a brief exposure to some sort of experimental device and stalking over to a table. Full of junk, spare parts, and pieces of dead transformers scavenged from battlefields all across the galaxy, this was truly one of Mortex's greatest treasures. To him, this was his paint, and the bodies of his fellows were his canvases - it was his honor to paint masterpieces of form and function, and now he was being asked to do so by the comrades he had shared his harrowing experience with. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Oh wait. That's his energon store overheating from excitement. His mistake.
"Lay down on the table, if you will," his hissing voice informs whichever of the two is brave enough to go first. He's already piecing through the junk with his delicate claws, the very image of a hunched-over mad scientist with his skeletal legs crouching and his back hunched, fondling pieces of equipment lovingly and calmly.
Fleet drags himself back to medical. By this point, he's very low on power, between creating the iceberg they used to get out from the ocean bottom and making the flight back. He shakes his head and sigh. "/So/ happy to know Blueshift's a canidate for Aerospace XO," he mutters sarcastically. He gives Mortex one nervous look, then climbs onto the table.
Excise follows after Mortex and the others, "I'm here to help you out with the upgrades," he tells the medic. The triplechanger reaches for his weapon holster and pulls out a katana. "No, not this one..." he drops it on the floor and reaches for another. This time it's a steak knife. "No..." He tosses the knife aside and pulls out another weapon. This time it's a dagger. "Closer..." He tosses it on the ground, reaching for and discarding weapons in a rapid sequence. Soon the ground next to Excise also includes a chainsaw, a stiletto, a longsword, nail clippers, a shiv, a cutlass, a pin, a broken piece of orange glass, and a hacksaw. "Ah here we go!" He holds up what he was looking for. It is a scalpel. The Decepticon wanders over to Mortex, brandishing the tool. He's ready to help.
Catechism shakes herself, perhaps like a dog. There is still sand stuck in joints and water splashing around inside her body. She tromps over to the table. Catechism suspects that she will regret this, but she doesn't have enough common sense to back out now. The ocean will bend to her will!
Mortex stalks over, like a huge predatory bird, and begins sealing off Fleet's arms and legs with metal holdings. How very terrifying. The skull looms over Fleet as Mortex's claws begin carressing and exploring the joints and arms, seeking weak structural points and becoming just a bit creepier than entirely necessary, perhaps.
One of his optics falls from his eye, and he pushes it back in, looking over at the scalpel. "...ahhhhh...good. Good. Do me a favor, yess?" he hisses in his squeaky-hinge voice, "Stand back."
With that, Mortex reaches up, the table sliding backwards as he pulls down a very, very disturbing-looking drill from above.
Fleet eyes the device coming down from above, and squirms as much as he's able. "Erm... you know, I hate to seem doubtful, but... how are you going to make me watertight by putting *more* holes in me?"
Excise stands behind Mortex, using his superior height to look over his shoulder. "It's not too late to back out, Fleet," Excise suggests. "You're going to go through a lot of pain just for the sake of being able to survive underwater. That's pretty wasteful..."
Mortex simply stares at Fleet. "I am going to open you up and replace your internal propulsion systems with water-enabled ones," he answers idly, "Then, I am going to force you to transform and seal off what remains of your incompatible pieces, and then I am going to close you off and repeat the process on Catechism."
Fortunately, Mortex seems...um...slightly kinder. "Would you like me to turn off your sensory input?"
Catechism watches Mortex work on Fleet, vaguely wondering how it is that the yellow coward is the one going under the knife first. She points out, "Uh... our whole base is underwater, y'know? What's to stop the Autobots and humans from building submarines and attacking us from below?"
Excise scoffs at Catechism, "No offence, boss, but I think Seaspray is about all the sheer /loser/ that the Autobots can handle. They aren't going to be adding any more of him to their ranks, I don't think."
"Yes, please," Fleet says. He's not one of those tough guys who feels he needs to suffer through the pain. "I'm a lot less likely to squirm that way, too."
Mortex nods, reaching for various points on Fleet's body to shut down his pain sensors before the buzzsaw begins, pressing his blade against Fleet's leg. "A pity," he says quietly, "The Sharkticon I operated on handled it without the sensors off. So many Decepticons are so afraid of pain. It is disappointing."
"I like to consider myself a bit brighter than your average Sharkticon," Fleet observes coolly.
"I operate on myself without dulling pain as well," he adds. "Do you consider yourself brighter than the surgeon you are trusting to open you up and fiddle with your internal mechanics?"
He removes the leg plate, slowly and idly pulling out one of the propulsion systems in Fleet's leg to examine it carefully. "You." He gestures at Excise. "There is a piece similar to this atop my pile. Two, in fact. Please bring them to me."
His free hand idly caresses Fleet's face in what may be intended as a measure of calming or peacemaking, but probably comes off as even creepier, considering the white metal claws against the metallic plating...well. It's certainly at least a bit disturbing.
Excise salutes Mortex. He is still carrying the scalpel, however, and nearly jabs himself in the forehead with it as a result. "Yes sir!" declares. Excise sprints over to the pile as fast as he can. It's about a four second sprint. He searches for the requested piece, knocking stuff aside so he can find it.
Mortex shouts "BE CAREFUL!" in the highest-pitched, rusty-gear-est screech he's ever emitted. "Damage even one of those pieces, and I take its replacement from you!"
Fleet considers himself /saner/ than the surgeon who is working on him, but he doesn't state that out loud. For one thing, it doesn't sound very sane when said out loud. For another, he doesn't want to piss off the surgeon working on him on top of everything else. He doesn't react at the stroking and caressing, instead just staring directly at the ceiling.
Excise jolts as he's yelled at. "I-... I..." he stammers. Putting on a brave face and refusing to sniffle in front of the boss, Excise goes through the pieces in a slower and more ordered fashion. Finding the piece in question, Excise sprints back towards Mortex and Fleet at top speed.
Catechism sees that Excise has a problem with jabbing himself. She facepalms.
Mortex would raise his eyebrows if he had anything that could move, at all. As it is, his jaw opens a bit, poking about at the complex internal organs. "Fascinating," he murmurs as his claw reaches out to take the piece. "Your insides are so very interesting...I wish I could examine them closer..."
As it stands, he's only able to install the piece with some creative manipulation of the workings, sealing up the leg calmly.
He repeats the process with the second leg, finally finishing the painstakingly careful event.
"Are you prepared?" He asks quietly. "I am going to force an unwilling transformation on you by manipulating your transformation cogs. This should allow your new pieces to fuse instantly to your second form, and then I will carefully seal off your dangerous parts."
Excise stops beside Mortex, holding out the piece. Glancing at the work that's being done while listening to the medic, Excise says in a light-hearted tone, "You're sort of creeping me out here, doc."
"I'm ready," Fleet states. It doesn't sound pleasant, but really, no turning back now.
"Please. Call me Mortex."
Immediately, he releases Fleet's restrains, jabbing his claws into a pair of vital organs; the hopeful result is Fleet going through an event very much like a contortion, except far more painful and far more forcible. "Please resist as much as you can. The more stress you put on your new workings during transformation, the more they will be prepared for maximum damage." He replies quietly.
"You're sort of creeping me out here, Mortex," Excise dutifully repeats. He watches the jabbing of the claws with a relatively neutral expression.
Mortex nods at that. Well, his neck bobs up and down, so it's kind of like a bob.
Fleet does resist, as the screaming attests. Metal shrieks, hinges cry out, and Fleet's body forces itself into his alternate mode, quite against his will. When it's done, he sits awkwardly on the table as a tetrajet.
Combat: Fleet transforms into his Fleet <Tetrajet> mode.
Mortex examines the tetrajet for a brief moment before selecting the tool he requires from the ceiling and applying it to the single sensitive area Fleet still has. A moment later, he withdraws it, flicking his claw into Fleet's sensors and reengaging his ability to feel.
"Your process is complete. Please step off my table so I might do the same for my other patient, yes?"
Excise watches with a sort of morbid fascination. It's tough to tell whether or not he's grossed out or not, regardless of how creepy Mortex himself is. "How do you feel?" he asks the patient now that the procedure is done.
Mortex 's head twists around to stare at Catechism. "Are you ready?" He asks slowly.
"Yargh!" Fleet exclaims as Mortex pokes him in his sensitive spot. Then he transforms, glowering at Mortex, and steps off the table. He shakes his head and shrugs at Excise. "Like I want to give my systems a chance to adapt to the new parts before actually taking a dip."
"We could try an easier test first," Excise suggests, backing up to give Fleet room for transforming. "How about I spritz you with a water gun?"
Fleet covers his face with his right hand, resting his elbow in the other hand. He shakes his head. "For that matter, I could go flying during a light rain," he points out.
Excise shrugs and folds his arms, "Alright, but I sure hope the entire city doesn't undergo some sort of horrible disaster and begin taking on water, thus forcing you to dramatically test out the modifications in a real live setting in order to save the entire base." The triplechanger stops and looks around, waiting to see if that happens. When it doesn't, he shrugs again.
Mortex gestures for Catechism to sit down on the bench, or park, or whatever.
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> peers at Excise in disbelief. Then, she hovers onto the table with an egregious use of her directional lift fan.
"Well, if you don't mind, I won't shut down my coolant system waiting for that to happen," Fleet replies to Excise. He inclines his head towards the others, then heads out.
Fleet takes a steel-spun tunnel, as reflective and color-shifting as energon, to the NCC Spinal Pathway to the south.
Fleet has left.
Mortex begins walking around Catechism's vehicle form, like a strutting predator examining a kill. It's truly a disturbing look for him as he rubs his skeletal chin. "It seems I must perform more...-drastic-...surgery here," he says quietly, though the squeaky hinge factor of his voice certainly magnifies that quite loudly as his buzzsaw starts up. "There are two ways I could modify you. The simple way - which is less likely to take properly - or the extensive way, which I can ensure you of succeeding and being far more powerful."
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> sighs and flicks her flaps despondently. She mumbles, "Go with the latter." She doesn't want to have to do this /again/.
Catechism's response elicts another of those uproarious cackles, the skeleton bending back at an unusual angle and stretching his arms outwards in a typical muahahahahahah sort of laugh. He seems so very happy to be able to practice his art.
"Would you prefer your sensory input on or off?" He asks, once he's calmed down.
Excise waves to the departing Fleet and moves in towards Catechism. He folds his arms and nods as if he understands what's being done. "Yes... yes, good work, doctor. I concur with your medical analysis thus far. Do proceed."
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> is sitting on a really creepy table, looking rather worried for a jet - her flaps are drooping. She grumbles, "Just leave them on." Get this over /quickly/, okay?
Mortex takes himself quite seriously as an artist. The acting, the creepy demeanor, most of it tends to drop when he's operating on somebody. Sometimes it's unintentional, but the truth of Mortex is that, in reality, he's simply seeking to improve on his art.
Unfortunately, his art tends to be extremely painful. So when he slices off Catechism's nosecone in one fell swoop, it's probably no surprise. When he applies a small roto-prop to the internal workings of Catechism's cone, it's probably less surprising.
But when he reaches in there, with no anesthetic and still-functioning systems...oh -my-. -That- might not just be surprising - it's the equivilant of a doctor doing brain surgery while the patient is conscious.
So the -really creepy laugh- he emits afterwards can't be entirely art-based.
It doesn't take long before he's devised what could almost be an alternate form in and of itself for Catechism. Pieces reinforced with sliding plates to seal off water-tight sensitive areas, additional armor applied to handle the pressure, sealed-off jet engines and an extending rotor-prop for forward motion...
The extensive alterations are, in fact, quite time-consuming. It's a full hour, maybe more, before Mortex is finished, but once he is, he satisfyingly sits back, his skeletal grin as it always is, and gives a nod. "My work is complete," he hisses happily, "Do enjoy it, yes? It may take some time before you're used to the additional weight."
One can only wonder what sort of pain Catechism must be in after that ridiculously invasive procedure.
At least she's stronger now, though! Right?
"If you can call 'being able to swim' stronger," Excise mutters to himself with a snicker. Wait, did he just read Mortex's mind? Or was a crazy coincidence and he was just thinking the exact same thing at the exact same time? Lets hope for the latter. He shakes his head at all the grief Catechism is having to go through for this.
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> screams like a wee bitty little girl when Mortex lops off her cone - it's her cone! Her pride and joy! Fleet didn't get /his/ cone lopped off. However, Fleet doesn't wear his cone on his head. For the rest of it, she is silent - ashamed at her scream. Seriously, who screams? Starscream. And what happened to him? That's right. She is a bit speechless by the time he's done, reeling with pain.
Mortex taps his chin. "How very impressive." He murmurs quietly, "You are so very resilient to the pain. Should you ever require another upgrade, I would be honored to serve." At this, he actually bows, a sweeping, Shakespearean bow as his claws extend into a flourish.
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> isn't /that/ resilient to pain. She's just aware that Excise is standing right there and would call her a sissy if she whimpered a bunch. Sounding somewhat pained and woozy, she murmurs, "Uhm... yeah. Yeah. I'll look you up." Next time she wants to learn a new meaning of agony.
Excise asks Catechism the same question he asked Fleet. "How do you feel, boss?" He does look impressed that she /manned up/ (or meched up) and for the most part took the pain like a champ. He looks ready to catch her in case she falls over.
"I am pleased you survived, though I didn't expect you not to," Mortex adds carefully, trundling some of the pieces he'd taken out of her (and replaced, of course) to the pile of his treasures. He kneels down, picking up pieces knocked to the floor by Excise's carelessness, examining each of them in turn to make sure they aren't damaged.
He might be a very cruel individual, or at least cause a lot of pain, but he's also a quite capable surgeon.
Fortunately.
XF-35B Astral Lightning <Catechism> replies, on auto-pilot, "I feel ready for a world of four-colour pulp of adventure!" Then, she transforms, staggers off the table, and looks confused. "Wait, no. No. What am I saying? I feel like I need a drink!"
XF-35B Astral Lightning transforms into robot form. Catechism's feet unfold, her arms unfold out of her body, her nosecone rotates through her body and ends up on her shoulders to expose her face, and her wings rotate into position.
Excise takes a moment to work out Mortex's double negatives. While Mortex goes to pick up the pieces of his pile, Excise goes to pick up all the weapons and tools he dropped at the beginning of the scene. All the while he keeps a close optic on the boss. "So... normal?" he asks.
Mortex bobs his head up and down at the suggestion of a drink. "I, too, perhaps, could use something to whet my whistle, as the humans say."
"W-what's that?" Excise asks as he stuffs an orange steak knife back into subspace. He's pretty sure that is the sort of question that he really shouldn't be asking.
Catechism is finally feeling like she can stand up straight. She notes, "Luckily, we have a bar." Catechism isn't usually this much of a lush, but the way things have been going...
Mortex gestures for her to lead the way. "After you," he hisses.
Mortex takes a steel-spun tunnel, as reflective and color-shifting as energon, to the NCC Spinal Pathway to the south.
Mortex has left.
You take a steel-spun tunnel, as reflective and color-shifting as energon, to the NCC Spinal Pathway to the south.
NCC Spinal Pathway
Aptly named, this corridor stretches down the length of the city-shark, straight down the middle and following what would be the neural pathways. Most areas of the city can be reached by following the arching way. Unlike a shark's structure, though, the pathway is frost blue metal, shining like mirrors, and columns like raised spikes punctuate it, stretching up to the sky as if to skewer any unwelcome visitors. The cut angles and sinuous curves catch bright sunlight and sparkling starlight alike and send prismatic light glancing through the structure like spears.
Contents:
Powerbase
Decepticon Sensor #1792
Lookout Tower
Obvious exits:
North <N> leads to NCC Medical Ward.
Northwest <NW> leads to NCC Arena.
Southeast <SE> leads to NCC Command Center.
Southwest <SW> leads to NCC Residential Ribs.
Passageway <P> leads to NCC Spaceport.
You take a rickety steel-rope bridge, seemingly as solid as cobwebs and about the same in looks, to the NCC Residential Ribs to the southwest.
NCC Residential Ribs
A line of skyscrapers reach for the sky here, a sky that's presently denied. While the curved, rib-shaped structures stretch upwards to an incredible height, even higher is the 'ceiling' that they support for most of the distance. The blues used in the city are at their palest on these structures, while the metal that surrounds them and the whole area, stretching over towards the Spinal Pathway, is extremely dark, so dark that it can only be distinguished from black when light hits it at the proper angle. Much easier to spot are the bright, spun-silver walkways that stand out against the walls like diamonds on velvet, the larger 'beads' increasing the jewelry-like quality of these bridges. Wearing a necklace like this would be like wearing barbed wire, however, for while the insides of these walkways are safe, the outer edges are razor sharp.
Contents:
Mortex
Venom's Lab <VL>
Redshift's Quarters
Boomslang's Hangar
Barrage's Bughole
Hook's Harem <HH>
Reflector's Dark Room <RDR>
Snapdragon's Quarters <SQ>
Forge <F>
Scourge's Office
Wiretap'a comm Center
Deck 14, #8620
Sunder's Den
Felon's Cell
Chimera's office
Cyclonus' Office
Sweep Sanctum
Quonset Hut
Valor's Barracks
Razorclaw's Lair <RL>
Octane's Energon Bureau <OEB>
Warmonger's Room <WMR>
Symphony's Quarters <SQ>
Blitzwing's Arsenal <BWA>
NCC DCI Office Building
Mesa's Audio Room
Special Advisor's Office <SAO>
Spoiler's Nickels <SN>
Bandit's Bungalo
Ramjet's Bunker
Battlecharger's Bordello
Shark's Rib
Obvious exits:
Northeast <NE> leads to NCC Spinal Pathway.
You step into the Shark's Rib.
Shark's Rib
Beyond the barracks and past the soundproof barriers is the NCC's residential tavern, the Shark's Rib. The walls and ceilings are a deep blue colour, and various lighting creates a shimmering effect. Large curved support beams above the ceiling provide a protective cage over the recreational area. Energon flows through transparent spiral-shaped piping behind the bar to the right of the entrance, indicating to even the most over-energized Decepticon where to go to for a refill. Bartenders are available to dispense energon of various grades and blends. For people willing to part with more imperial credits and who know who and how to ask, the good product is kept under lock and key. There is seating at the bar for Decepticons of various sizes. There are also numerous booths for large groups. There is a small exposed area to serve as a dance floor with a raised level in front of it, complete with all the equipment necessary for public announcements and live group performances. Due to the lack of importance to the overall Decepticon mission, even more aesthetical decorations have been put into the Shark's Rib. Thin metallic spirals decorate the bar area, the furnishings and the walls. Music is often played through hidden speakers - often trumpet music, but also classic Imperial soldier tunes that every Decepticon knows well.
Contents:
Mortex enters the Shark's Rib.
Catechism saunters into the bar as if she has an A grade migraine, and considering that she had her cone lopped off? Yeah, she does. She sidles up to the bar and snaps her fingers, ordering a nice, mellow brand of high grade. Something smooth and soothing.
Mortex enters the bar with the usual gait, elicting stares from some of the gathered sweeps and seekers. His hunched-over stalking, his creepy demeanor, and his disturbing reputation has several of the seekers on edge - after all, he's the medic who operates without painkilling and does extensive full-body surgery on -himself-, among others.
He seats himself at the bar, still hunched over, and bobs his head up and down with an unusual twitching motion, staring across at the menu, or appropriately similar object. Finally, he orders 'a plain old oil', listening detachedly to the music and ignoring the various stares of less-valuable (well, potentially less-valuable, anyway) soldiers.
The music is probably trumpets. Blame the Constructicons. Catechism doesn't mind, though. She glances over at Mortex's drink, before sipping her own. Oh, that's better. Much, much better. She smiles slightly, and says finally, "Thank you for the, uh, waterproofing."
Mortex bobs his head. "It is my pleasure to perform my art on those who wish it," he replies, his hissing voice still quite audible even over the loud trumpetting. "Are you feeling well? If there are complications, I would be happy to fix them...but I have never had complications from my modifications."
"Actually," he amends, "That is untrue. There were severe complications when I began my self-modification, but I have had a great deal of practice since then."
Catechism takes another sip of her drink and proclaims, smirking slightly, "I'm feeling better now." She adds, "Parts always take a while to settle in. I'm a bit of an unusual build - ex-Seeker, and my acid's alien-derived."
Mortex bobs his head again. "Yes, I noticed," he says calmly, draining some of his oil. The visible nature of his internal organs means Catechism and those around him are getting a firsthand view of his 'digestive' system, and the oil filters down into his pumping hydraulics with a very chilly sort of abandon as Mortex waves his hand. "You are a masterpiece of art, and it was my pleasure and honor to improve upon that foundation."
Catechism also used to be part of a combiner team at one point, but Soundwave finally removed those parts when she was rebuilt for space. She is a mess, really. She snorts and says, "Art? Maybe a martial art. That's about all, really." She tilts her head to the side. Whoa. She can see his fuel tank from here. Weird!
Mortex extends his hand flatwise, claws strumming together. "Oh no...no, no. It's far more than simply searching for more power, you see. But I doubt you would fully understand...I am told that I am quite the eccentric."
He gives one of those laughs, and at least one Seeker stands and pays his tab before walking off.
Catechism definitely doesn't get it, but then, most medics around here seems a bit kooky. She chews her lip, savouring her drink. "So. Whatever happened to that octopus, anyway?"
Mortex shrugs offhandedly. "I believe it fell asleep on the idiot's head."
Catechism toys with her drink and nods slowly, "Sounds about right."
Mortex seems vaguely amused. "So then...why are you so obsessed with being able to operate underwater?" He drains some more of his drink, it sliding straight to his fueltank. "Was it simply that little adventure, or did you have another poor meeting with the ocean?"
Mortex bobs his head up and down. "I think about such things all the time," he replies quietly, "Such vulnerabilities, such things, they are nothing but obstacles to overcome. And I am always looking to better myself."
Catechism admits, "I should think about these things more often, y'know. You notice any major security issues, you let me know, eh?"
Mortex tilts his head to look at her. "Oh, I was simply thinking about -my- vulnerability. I'm certain the Decepticon forces are mighty enough to repel any sort of underwater attack." There's a slight mockery in his voice, but it's far outweighed by his actual serious loyalty.
Catechism rubs her chin and muses, "Yeah, about that... have you seen Cuddles? Part organic, part robotic squid? Huge?" It's just occurred to her that she has no idea where he went.
Mortex stares at her for a moment before letting out an incredible, hilarity-filled cackle. "No," he replies, "But it sounds like something I'd enjoy."
Catechism smiles lopsidely. "Ah. Oh well. I'm sure he'll turn up. First order of business is retrieving Trypticon, anyway."
Mortex taps his chin. "I cannot imagine," he says after a moment, "Being a city."
"No. Wait. That isn't true." He laughs, although now it seems more familiar to Catechism, so it's probably lost a lot of its creepy edge. "I can. It must be fascinating."
"I've actually been working on some tiny little machines to live inside me - you know, emulating the human immune system, a sort of advanced self-repair...but it's come up short. Ah well. The path towards perfection is a long one."
He seems very...-normal-...outside his element. Well, aside from the cutting focus and the creepy-as-hell laugh, anyway.
Catechism shrugs and notes, "Being a city would be a radical rebuild. You'd have all these people inside of you, some of them disgusting, like Blot, some of them idiotic and drawing on your walls..."
Mortex bobs his head up and down. "You would be surprised," he says after a moment, "Over how fascinating I find such ideas. It's a little problem I have, I think - I find Junkions, humans, and everything else oh so very interesting...and yet everyone else simply wants to exterminate them."
"Not that I have a problem with extermination...but without learning from them, we will never improve as a greater species. Like...those leeches. I went back and took a few of them back to my laboratory for analysis. Their digestion system is truly amazing, and I've been studying it quite closely in hopes that I might be able to figure out a way to immunize Decepticons to their threat.
Catechism's optics light up, "An improved form of inoculation? One that doesn't wash off? That'd be great! Now, humans... I find them pretty icky, to be honest, but if they would just obey us, I figure we could let them live. Same goes for Junkions."
Mortex shakes his head. "The Junkions are my image of perfection," he replies offhandedly, "Not the idiocy of their culture, but their physical forms. Immune to damage! Able to repair themselves from whatever is handy! Imagine, an army of Decepticons under glorious Galvatron with the same brilliant ability? Scavenging the corpses of the autobots they crushed, healing their damage, and marching on, no longer weak to material concerns such as damage..."
Catechism rubs her chin, thinking. "I guess. If you could give them decent armour so they wouldn't fall apart all the time." She finishes her drink, pays for it, and stands. In a friendly fashion, she excuses herself, "See you around, Mortex. Good luck with your projects!
Mortex bobs his head. "I will see about the inoculation as soon as possible." He agrees.