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Who: Impactor, Outrun, Jayson Redfield, Apocryphacius, Geist, Counterpunch, Sunder, Soundwave, Grimlock, Fusillade, Aramasu Hikage, Hot Spot, Nate Briar, Silverbolt, Sheng, Moonracer, Focus, Quickswitch, Blitzwing, Ramjet, Thrust, James Bailey, and Raptor |
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Six Lasers - Cheyne Ig-Yac Ranch
You ever try to milk an Ig-Yac, son? It ain't easy.
Ranches and other attractions cover the planet of Cheyne. They offer places for tourists to stay, as well as feature cattle rides, cowboy shows, aliens gazing off at the sunset with a wistful look in his eye while occasionally saying 'Yup' in a long, drawn out fashion, and other Wild West-themed attractions. All ranches have a stable of the planet's main draw, though: Ig-Yacs.
Ig-Yacs (also spelled Ig-Yak) are bipedal reptilian creatures that vaguely resemble a thin 'upright' T-Rex. Standing a good head and shoulders taller than a Dinobot, Ig-Yacs are large enough for most Transformers to ride Yoshi style. Although the ones on the ranch have been domesticated, a strong will and mean temperament make them a challenge for even an experienced rider. This makes them the perfect candidate for the Bucking Broncho event. Hold on tight!
Contents:
Impactor Outrun Apocryphacius
Jayson Redfield Bleachers Target 1
Target 2 Target 3 Target 4
Target 5
Obvious exits:
Out <O> leads to Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens.
Outrun falls fowards and folds into a sleek Vector WX3.
The Sweepcraft transforms rapidly into the cruel robotic Decepticon Geist.
Geist succeeds in grasping Jayson Redfield, throwing him off-balance.
Sunder succeeds in grasping Geist, throwing him off-balance.
Aramasu Hikage arrives a bit early at the designated location for the sharpshooting event in order to prepare his weapon and himself. The ninja is wearing an urban camo ninja costume with the hood pulled back and mask down not bothering to hide his identity at the Olympics. Hikage finds a table to lay his huge black weapon case on.
- THOOM. THOOM. THOOM!*
That would be Grimlock, stomping onto the scene! He hmms, and looks over the area...at which point he makes a very important declaration: "Me Grimlock am BEST at shooting!" That...would seem to be why he's here. Glancing around with his cool blue visor, he finally settles his eyes on Aramasu, hmm-ing. "Hrrr. They let puny humans be in lym-pics? Hn. Me Grimlock guess it good you in 'vent where thing not shoot BACK."
Six Lasers has taken their own approach to the Sharpshooting even, though parts of it might still look familiar to those with a more foreign viewpoint. We are back on the Cowboy planet of Cheyne, and specifically at a town near where the Ick-Yak bronco bustin' event was held. The town consists of a single dirt road that is barely worthy to be considered a road. Lining both sides of the road are a number of old west style wooden buildings, including a saloon with some horses tied up out front, a sheriff's office, a multi-story hotel, and a remarkably sized house where you go if you're interested in meetin' some dames (shipped in all the way from Planet XXX). All in all there's about six houses on each side of the road.
The most remarkable thing about the town, however, is that it is currently deserted. There's nobody inside any of the buildings. There's a starting line at one end of town, however, where a gathering of Six Lasers Olympic personnel are present, preparing for the event. One of the stagehands is pushing a tumbleweed across the view of a camera. A familiar alien face can be seen chewing on a blade of grass. The alien looks just like Clint Eastwood would look if Clint Eastwood had eye stocks instead of eyes. He gazes off at the sunset, thinking rugged, manly thoughts.
Sunder is there, of course. He's got his disruptor rifle out already, in anticipation of the sharpshooting. Idly he takes in the sight of the arriving competition.
Counterpunch strides briskly into the area.
Soundwave stands to one side, alone, looking disdainfully at everyone.
Okay, so his 'disdainful' look is the same as all his other looks. But trust me, he doesn't like you.
Jayson Redfield has been hanging around for awhile, just relaxing and trying to pass the time before the contest. He's glad not to be on Nepsa anymore, and is thankful that he did catch anything from the ice planet's frigid air. He is, at the moment, checking over his gun, his favored .44 cal Mark XIX Desert Eagle, busy making sure it's in top condition and fully loaded.
Apocryphacius floats into the area. He has what was once a standard issue EDC pistol held loosely in one of his tentacles. Now, it is anything but. He has stripped off the outer casing and replaced it with a translucent sort of fiberglass, and he has studded the inside of the casing with LEDs that blink in time with a Morse code message. The clear casing itself has carvings in it that look like Sanskirt. Apocryphacious gets really bored, some days. If only he was actually productive when he was bored.
Geist glides into the area, freakishly... supernaturally... The weirdo needs to be burned at the stake by the town elders! "Where assassins come to scout and prospects come to prove worthy of a chance at making their bones." The creep sweep is hopefully speaking to someone and not just rambling to himself.
Vector WX3 <Outrun> rolls in, soon followed by a large cloud of dust, his tires scream on the ground as be break near any close group of Decepticons so the cloud of dust hits them, then he rolls over towards the other autobots.
Speaking of things that shoot back, Fusillade sashays into the general area. She rests one bladed elbow on a fencepost. After a few exchanged comments with one of the field hands, she frowns deeply, and leans over to one side as she sizes up those arriving, and the nature of the progressively smaller targets. Something from the staffer irritates her, and she snaps out, "Yeah, I could get the target!" And much much more quietly mutters, "and half the stands." Scuffing one foot at a spare tumbleweed, she meanders over to the bleachers.
Now here's a face that came out of nowhere last Olympics -- and apparently managed to win the gold in the Olympics for the sharpshooting event. And... well, Counterpunch figured that perhaps he should come to defend his title.
Wouldn't everybody just freak to know that it was really an Autobot who won this event?
He floats down, landing near Soundwave, and walks over, crossing his arms. "Hmm... interesting competition we're going to have this year," he finally comments offhandedly. "I suppose we'll have to see if I can't defend my title this year."
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Apo, Aramasu...good luck, guys!"
<EDC> Apocryphacius says, "My thanks, Redfield, but luck has no place in an ordered universe."
Apocryphacius shifts to the Face of Judgement.
Aramasu Hikage looks up at Grimlock... .oO(If you only knew...)Oo. "Grimlock is it? Well good luck or good targeting software or whatever you guys use for this sort of things. Maybe just maybe...we 'puny' humans will be on par with your incredible awesomeness." Of course there is some sarcasm in there but the guy is such a good actor it sounds relatively sincere. With that he opens his case and pulls out his bow and secures the quiver across his back. He studies the carbon-composite arrows, double-checks the tension on the bow. Everything looks good. With that in mind he begins to meditate half-awake in preperation.
<EDC> Aramasu Hikage says, "And good luck to both of you as well."
Hot Spot is standing amongst the crowd, his trusty fireman's hose in hand... ...he's screwing on an extra fine spray nozzle. His optics graze over the competition present... ...this isn't going to be a walk in the park.
From Bleachers, Silverbolt chuckles at everyone and just sits in the bleachers.
Idle message from Sheng: Lag problems. May miss pages in back-scroll and thus fail to reply
Apparently, Nate spent too much time in the bathroom and he runs out of the men's rest room. "Oh God, I hope I don't have toliet paper stuck on shoe. Gotta win this event!"
Grimlock, of course, is blissfully unaware of subtle concepts like 'sarcasm' or 'subtlety.' "That right!" Grimlock says. "Me Grimlock -AM- awesome!" he says- and perhaps would launch into more...only to see Aramasu pull out...a bow and arrows. "HAW HAW HAW! Bow and arrows? That SISSY WEAPON! They call me Grimlock primitive, but you am like cyber-caveman! Haw haw haw!" his mirth isn't spoiled by the presence of Decepticons, either, as he looks over at the two present, and points. "First me Grimlock win medals, then me Grimlock 'splode you when 'lympics over!" He seems to relish the thought.
A not-so futuristic hover car speeds along at the head of an enormous cloud of dust fashionably late as various robots and Sol Sphere crack-shots begin to limber up. The change-colour if your rub it emblem emblazoned on the hood gleams with musty red and blue somehow setting off brilliant pink lens flare.
As it speeds in behind the other contestestants along the lonely dirty road there is the familiar three tone sound of transforming robot; and Moonracer seamlessly breaks into a run, laser pistol in a business-like grip and barrel pointed vertical along side her face as she takes it all in.
"Anyone can nuke a ramshackle ghost town." She retorts to the crowd in general, "It takes a real man to put it in the kill zone without your target knowing you were there." She finishes with the dry sting of a woman scorned. Then she laughs. "Aww, where's Shockwave? I wanted to see him here..." She smiles widely, "He can't shoot for ****!"
Representing the grumpy old men demographic is the gruff Autobot with anger management issues, Impactor. The purple and gold Autobot has already aquired a generos layer of the thick dust that covers this planet, but it doesn't seem to bother him.
From Bleachers,
Stomp stomp stomp. Fusillade trounces towards the first row of bleachers and promptly plunks down, wingblades flaring wide and taking up probably about 4 seats' worth of space. She crosses her arms atop the the edge of the railing there on the front row, scowling. As Moonracer's commentary floats her way, she raises a one-fingered salute the Autobot's way.
The Clint Eastwood alien slowly turns to face all of the new arrivals. He continues chewing on the blade of grass. He's so manly. If he were any manlier he'd be a man and not an alien. He looks like he could have a stellar acting career and then against all odds pull off an amazing directing career. "So yer all back, huh?" he says. "Alright then. This is how it's going to be. This here town is rigged up with pop-up wooden targets. Some targets have the face of your enemy. Those are the targets you shoot. Some targets have the face of the innocent. Those are the targets you don't shoot."
Clint Eastwood's gaze sweeps over the Decepticons. Eastwood's sidekick, alien Burt Lancaster, says, "In your case, the targets you don't shoot look like Galvatron, seein' as how you don't respect the idea of sparring the lives of innocence."
Clint takes over again, "Each target has a point value. Rack up more points than half your opponents and you move onto the next round. Questions?"
Jayson Redfield looks up from where he's taking care of his gun. "Hey, Grimlock--don't laugh. Arrows used to be widely used before the invention of guns." He shrugs. "Best we can do. We're not as high-tech as you Transformers." Then he smirks. "But we sure try."
Sheng walks up silently, scanning the contestents, the zone of the sharpshooting contest and then, almost as an after thought, her pistol. This will be interesting... Or embaressing.
...More embaressing. why did she let herself get talked into this?
Soundwave turns his head to view Counterpunch. Hey, it's the same look he was giving everyone else. "Negative. Soundwave posesses superior ability." He states it as dead fact. Then he breaks away and strides up to the line to wait. There's an electrical hum coming from the cannon on his shoulder, and as he looks amongst the contestants they might get the distinct feeling he's warming up his targeting computers by targeting people.
Wherever Impactor is standing, the great, looming Sixchanger isn't far away. Quickswitch stands nearby, chrome arms folded over his expansive chest. He looks out over the bleachers and down the street, his face neutrally grim and posture set.
Counterpunch chuckles quietly to himself. Yes, Soundwave just might... but oen never knows. Quietly, he follows Soundwave down, assuming position as he looks over the range and nods quietly to himself.
- range, oops
Geist raises his forearm and a seam appears, a small panel pops open and sides away. A small weapon barrel raises up fron the opening in his forearm and makes a 'blip-blip' sound as he selects his ammunition. He stands ready to await his turn.
<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "Good luck, 'Bots!"
"Ready to show them what we're made of, Quickswitch?" Impactor says to his fellow Wrecker, without looking back. He knows the multimoded assault warrior is there, looming over the scenery. "Keep in mind you can't shoot /every/ target and ask questions later; There'll be some ones in there to trick you, so keep your optics open."
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Why do I feel like John Wayne right now...?"
Apocryphacius is nervous to be around so many Transformers, and he tries to hover nearer to the humans and alternate humans, keeping close to lightposts, as if he could possibly hide behind one. The Quintesson plays with the LEDs embedded under the casing of his gun, trying to keep his mind off the fact that he is surrounded by giant robots who have a history of hating his species because his species has a history of being evil opressors. Angry, warlike, brutal robots.
Sunder looks over at Geist. "Oh, so you decided to participate? Excellent." The Sweep has to suppress a snicker at what Moonracer says--hey, it's true!--but quickly regains his composure and coughs.
Grimlock hmms, and glances out over the town...and then makes it a point to pull his double-blaster out, giving it a cursory glance...he hmms, lets out a grunt...and with his OTHER hand, he draws his Galaxial Rocket Launcher! "Hmmm. Me Grimlock ready to start shootin' stuff!" he says- just a biiit impatient. He looks over towards Impactor & Quickswitch, and grunts. "Hnn. You Wreckers shoot as good as you talk?"
Geist doesn't bother looking at Sunder when he answers, "If only to look over your shoulder and make you push yourself to do better."
Jayson Redfield idly twirls his gun and glances up at Apocryphacius. "You nervous?"
Aramasu Hikage shrugs off Grimlock's comment and ponders baiting the big the guy. "Tell me Grimlock, how certain are you that I cannot win with my 'cyber-caveman' weapon?" He does not bother to point out that being a dinosaur does not get any more caveman than that and that bows are more recent than his alt-mode.
Grimlock blinks his optic visor, & looks down at Aramasu. "Me Grimlock certain! Me Grimlock beat you, 'cuz me Grimlock am BEST SHOOTY GUY."
Vector WX3 <Outrun> doesn't pay much attention to all the noises around him, trying to concentrate on what he's going to do next.
Moonracer gives a big thumbs up, twirls her laser pistol and holsters it. She jams her fingers in her mouth and gives the Clint Alien an enthusiastic wolf call signalling her readiness. She strides past Grimlock and winks at the Dinobot. "I shoot as good as you wreck. Knock'em dead big guy."
Focus walks down from the bleachers holding his walking cane. He's going to be doing this too he figures. Focus pulls out a kunai blade and steps up towards the gathering place for the people that'll be part of the contest.
Hot Spot just nods to the alien presenter, not a word from the Protectobot Commander.
Clint Eastwood waits none-too-patiently as everyone squabbles and bickers with one another. "Alright, nobody has any questions," he finally says. "That's good. Now according to the 'rules'-" Alien Clint Eastwood doesn't think much of rules. Alien Clint Eastwood plays by his own rules. You have a problem with Alien Clint Eastwood? Well Alien Clint Eastwood has a problem with /you/, so don't push it, bucko. Anyway... "-up first is from the Ee Dee See." Using a walking stick, Alien Clint Eastwood points at Jayson Redfield, "You're up first, kid. Now don't go letting this get to your head. You foul up and it just means you'll be the first one washed out of this event."
The devil came down to Nespa and he was in a bind he was way behind and he was willing to make a deal. When he spotted a dino to played his rocket launcher hard the devil stepped up and said "Grimlock let me tell you what. If you care to take a dare I'll make a bet with you." The ninja does his best not to smile too much "If you win I will make you a sword like no other to replace your current one. If I win, you transform into your T-Rex mode and I get a ride around the stadium for my victory lap. How does that sound?"
From Bleachers,
As the participants line up, Fusillade continues to mull over the different configurations that would result in simultaneous destruction of all the possible targets. Granted this would also result in simultaneous destruction of each of the six houses the line the street. She continues to sulk, lower lip jutted out slightly as she looms over the railing of the first row.
Grimlock hnnfs at Aramasu. "How you make sword for me Grimlock? You TINY. Me Grimlock sword BIG." he nods at this. "But me Grimlock take bet anyway, 'cuz me Grimlock know you big loser! Err...little loser. Little human...big...losing...guy." he pauses. "ME GRIMLOCK GREATEST!" and he looks over at the targets again, and hmmmmms.
From Bleachers, Silverbolt is sitting way up in the high rows. he then proceeds to laugh at Grimlock. "Good luck Bots!"
Jayson Redfield blinks as he's pointed at! "I'm first, huh...well, here goes nothin'." He stands, his grip tightening on the gun, and makes his way toward the shooting range. It's a like like the simulator James ran him through--this shouldn't be a problem. The first target pops up--and it's an enemy!
Jayson Redfield strikes Target 1 with Pistol.
Jayson Redfield misses Target 2 with his Pistol attack.
From Bleachers, Sheng walks up and sits down next to Silverbolt, lips quirking faintly.
Jayson Redfield strikes Target 3 with Pistol.
Jayson Redfield misses Target 4 with his Pistol attack.
Jayson Redfield strikes Target 5 with Pistol.
From Bleachers, "So who's winning?" asks Blitzwing basically out of nowhere as he comes up beside Fusillade.
Quickswitch's brow ridge narrows with quiet and skeptical amazement. They're letting humans into this? I wonder how it'll turn out. And he did wonder. At the same time, as he studied the range, the humans' priority diminished to a much lesser importance. There wasn't any reason to wonder how it would turn out. His grim expression becames a subconscious smile. There were two Wreckers present, so what doubt was there?
Hmmm. His brow knits as he waits.
From Bleachers, Silverbolt smiles to Sheng as she sits. "itching to get out there, hmm?"
From Bleachers, Sheng says, "My sharpshooting skills are legendary. Only Misfire is worse, I fear.""
From Bleachers, Fusillade cranes her helm askance as the gilded Autobot ascends. "Pssh, what does she even turn into?" she rumbles to herself, before half-lidding her own saffron optics and peering at the human going through its paces. At Blitzwing's query, she straightens bolt-upright, and then snorts. "Precision people are winning. Actually, they just started," she remarks casually. One hand slides out to snap her wingblades shut so she doesn't monopolize as much space on the bench.
Alien Clint Eastwood watches and squints (Alien Clint Eastwood has bad eye sight, but Alien Clint Eastwood doesn't wear glasses because only sissies wear glasses, and Alien Clint Eastwood can see perfectly fine if Alien Clint Eastwood just squints a lot, which he does... a lot) at Jayson Redfield's performace. "Close call for that eight year old," he mutters. Drawing in the sand, Clint writes Jayson's name. Next to it he writes the points the EDCer achieved: 9.
Alien Burt Lancaster looks at a piece of old parchment paper. "Says here the person up next is the person what nearly crushed poor Dave Gorman the Ick-Yak!" Burt Lancaster looks at Grimlock, who is up next. "Hmmm," says Clint. "Go get the fire extinguishers ready, son. This ain't going to be pretty."
Moonracer reflexively raises a hand to her face as Jayson makes his way through the course. "Those humans are better than they thought. With horrible cretins like the Decepticons around, it's good to see they really Can defend themselves!" She kicks a leg up hooking her foot around her calf.
"Me Grimlock heard that!" he says, and then trompatrompatromps into the town.
Really, where many of the contestants are the very pinnacles of skill and precision, well...the dinocommander seems rather...casual about it all. He picks his targets as they pop out, neatly blasting away with single shots from his double-blaster- barely even bothering to see where they land before moving on to the next one.
*Pew!* *pew!* *pew!* *pew!* *BOOOOOOOM!*
...looks like he used his rocket launcher on the last one. Oops.
Jayson Redfield glares at Alien Clint Eastwood as he heads back to his seat. "I'm seventeen, not eight."
Grimlock strikes Target 1 with Little Bitty Laser..
Grimlock strikes Target 2 with Little Bitty Laser..
From Bleachers, Blitzwing sits down with a faint scoff. Or maybe that was just a mechanical noise. No, it was a scoff. "Who needs accuracy when you've got firepower? They don't have an entry for just blowing up targets though. Have to hit them directly."
Grimlock strikes Target 3 with Little Bitty Laser..
Grimlock strikes Target 4 with Little Bitty Laser..
Grimlock strikes Target 5 with missile.
From Bleachers, Blitzwing adds, "Otherwise I'd be all over that like Autobots on moving furniture."
From Bleachers,
"I -*KNOW*- okay?" Fusillade laments.
From Bleachers, Silverbolt facepalms at grimlock and sighs. "mmmf. I'll give it a whirl. I don't mind getting eliminated."
<Decepticon> Geist says, "It surprises me... Not a single Aerospace representative here... then again... an event taken a day before the air race might be too strenuous."
"I meant the innocent target you nearly blew away," Clint retorts to Jayson. He turns to gesture at what he's talking about, but Grimlock has already taken to the field, blazing away with his double blaster. "The one ri..." Clint Eastwood trails off as wooden targets are obliterated by the Dinobot Commander. Alient Clint Eastwood squints (told you he does that a lot) and observes the rubble strewn town. While the aides rush to put everything back together, Clint writes down Grimlock's name in the sand along with his perfect score: 15.
"Oh looks like we have a REAL sharpshootin' expert up now," Burt is saying. "Moonracer from the Aw-toe-bots." Burt Lancaster steps aside so that Moonracer can run the training course.
<Decepticon> Big-Brother-Sweep Sunder says, "Perhaps."
<Decepticon> Geo says, "Hrm."
Jayson Redfield just sticks his tongue out.
<Decepticon> <:D Catechism says, "I have a Wrecker to wreck right now."
<Decepticon> Geist says, "Then again, putting a gun in some Seeker's hands leads to indecisiveness. Chimera, ofcourse, is excused for valourous endeavors."
From Bleachers, "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahwwnnnh." Ramjet tilts his cone back and nearly unhinges his jaw for a fine, languid yawn. His optics flicker several times before he tilts back to watch Grimlock make other people feel awful about themselves. He makes a face before reaching up to rub the side of his cone in light, circular strokes. "Mmmmn," murmurs the bored Air Commander. He glances side-long to the orange-and-white Decepticon jet sitting to his left. "Did they finish my Anti-Dinobot Laser yet?"
"No sir," sighs Sunstorm.
Ramjet groans. He flicks his hand out to extend the servos of his joints before glancing around, optics searching for a roving oil vendor. "How much longer on this ceasefire? Earth's complete annexation awaits and after that, Kaldon-IV. I am -most- eager to visit Kaldon-IV.. and crush it beneath my boot," reasons the Air Commander.
Sunstorm frowns. "About two more weeks, sir."
Ramjet glares, "Didn't I tell you giving me displeasing answers is a fatal offense in the Kingdom of Air?"
<Decepticon> Geist says, "*Catechism"
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Stupid targets..."
<EDC> Apocryphacius says, "The targets possess no intelligence whatsoever, insofar as I am able to determine."
<EDC> Lieutenant Nate Briar says, "Like Jayson?"
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Shut up, Nate."
From Bleachers, Blitzwing rests his elbows on the railing. "It shouldn't count for humans to do it, the targets are like ten times bigger for them."
Wow--! Quickswitch watched the Dinobot Commander shoot every single one of the targets, enthusiasm rising with each targetted hit, He fought it to maintain his composure. Certainly, this was exemplary, but now was not the time. The next one was up. Who was it--? He felt his thoughts coalesce and he peered closely through green optics growing with intensity. The assault unit observed one of the femmes, one of Elita One's Femmes. He frowned at the sight of her.
From Bleachers, "What's so great about Kaldon-IV anyhow?" asks Blitzwing skeptically.
Moonracer perks up as the sides of her head, where her audio receptors are gleam red momentarily. She straightens out to look over the crowd and makes her way up towards the target course. She jogs along whistling to Clint and waving at him...
...Then suddenly her cheery and vapid expression is replaced with hard squinting straight lines, similar to those of their host as she dives foreward past him, she drops into a kneeling position and raises her pistol firing at the first target, a mean looking Yule Brinner. She leaps back to her feet takes a few springing steps towards a hitching post, firing at targets two and three and then ducking down with her back against the post for unnecessary cover.
As a target pops up in front of the saloon she steadily and lightning fast draws the pistol with both hands and then smiles, releasing her left to wave at the 8 year old. "You should be at home with your mommy." She advises matronly and then twirls to shoot at the Man in the Black Hat target as he pops up over her shoulder with his dastardly long moustache. "See what I mean," She calls back to 'kid' only to see a gaunt undertaker with a wooden maxim. She doesn't hesitate firing dangerously over the child's head at the real target and bites her tongue, before walking off.
Moonracer strikes Target 1 with pewpewpew.
Moonracer strikes Target 2 with pewpewpew.
Moonracer strikes Target 3 with pewpewpew.
Moonracer strikes Target 4 with pewpewpew.
Moonracer strikes Target 5 with pewpewpew.
From Bleachers, Ramjet makes a face.
Grimlock hmms, watching Moonracer's performance. "Hnn. Not bad. Too bad her Moonracer all girly." he remarks to...nobody in particular. "Her need BIG gun. Like me Grimlock's!" he could indeed be a 80's action hero, or a 90's comic book character, that dinobot.
From Bleachers,
A faint growl escapes Fusillade as she watches Grimlock butcher the track, and settles back down. "Can't say I've ever heard of it, truth be told," she remarks. Another casual glance cast about the bleachers affords her a chance to spot Ramjet and Sunstorm. "What all is that place supposed to be about?" she asks the triple-changer.
"See Clint," Alien Burt Lancaster says, nodding in Moonracer's direction. "That's a class act all the way. Goes in, gets the job done perfectly, an' even helps the local youngin's. My kind of woman." Clint Eastwood doesn't seem very impressed, though he does mark down a perfect score of 15 next to Moonracer's name, and draws a little squiggle next to that to denote all the style points that Moonracer's won for not simply shooting everything at once. "Lets see one of the Cons, Burt. I'm tired of seeing only the white hats have their chance."
Burt nods and looks at the parchment paper. "Ok, we have... er... Sweep number..." Burt hesitates, and points at a random Sweep. The random Sweep happens to be Geist!
From Bleachers, "What, Kaldon-IV?" asks Blitzwing. "Is that the place with the cyborg animal guys or am I thinking of something else?"
Focus moves off to sit down against a wall. He figures this might take a while for his name to be called. So he might as well get comfy. He rests his drawn dagger on his lap after sitting cross legged on the ground.
Geist raises his arm and points it forward along his sight line, keeping it there. And he glides out into West World. The hunt alive and well inside, the Sweep is constantly moving and searching. An Ultra Magnus pops up wearing a sherrif badge, he swivels to the movement and does not hesitate. He fires a Stinger Drone Dart, a glowing purple small armor piercing module, and keeps moving. The head of Sky Lynx appears in a window with a cowbell around its neck. He runs to catchup with it and put it in his sights and snaps off his shot. He hunts. Galvatron pops up holding a baby in a bonnet in his arms. The Sweep dismisses the fiction. A second later a Witwicky wearing a 30 gallon hat pops up behind the Galvatron. Geist drops and crouch-rolls to get around the blocking Galvatron and fires at the Witwicky. He rises and pivots as he continues his path up the street. Galvatron pops up in a window wearing chaps and smiling. Geist tracks movement higher up and sees a Rodimus holding a bottle of whiskey. He fires. He stalks down the street further nearing the end. A Blurr pops up far behind him. He hears the sound and pivots in the mud. His final shot taken.
Geist strikes Target 1 with Stinger Drone - Dart Mode.
Geist misses Target 2 with his Stinger Drone - Dart Mode attack.
Geist strikes Target 3 with Stinger Drone - Dart Mode.
Geist strikes Target 4 with Stinger Drone - Dart Mode.
Geist strikes Target 5 with Stinger Drone - Dart Mode.
From Bleachers, Ramjet rubs his fingertips against his chest-plating, giving the accumulated medals hanging from them a light jingle n' clink. "Sunstorm, fetch me an oil. Something high octane. Being sober and being surrounded by so many lesser species gives me a headache!"
Sunstorm groans. He rises from his seat, briefly looking resplendant what with all that marvelous orange and cream on his chassis, before darting off to fetch some oil. Air Commanders get it so good.
From Bleachers, Thrust is watching Doctor Phil on his diePod.
Whereas Burt doesn't seem to know which Sweep is which, Clint Eastwood sure does. That's why Clint Eastwood is the /man/ and Burt Lancaster is the almost man. Clint writes down Geist's name and the score next to it: 13. Cowbell Sky Lynx remains barely unscathed, though there's a blast hole just behind the wooden Autobot LT. Since Burt can't tell the Sweeps apart, he goes right ahead and points to the next Sweep, who is of course Sunder.
Sunder nods at Geist. "Well done," he purrs, then walks to the spot where the shots are taken, clutching his disruptor rifle in one hand. He is the epitome of calm and collected, so that some might mistake him for Geist if they didn't know better. The various targets pop up, revealing various things a Sweep would want to shoot at: Rodimus Prime, Michael Briar's Exo Glaive II (how old are these targets, anyway?), a Quintesson with a wierd cowboy hat on, a Sharkticon, and for some reason a Giant Donut. Luckily, no Galvatrons pop up. Carefully he takes aim and pops off the required number of shots.
Sunder misses Target 1 with his disruptor attack.
From Bleachers,
"Iunno, they all start to run together after a while." Fusillade shrugs to Blitzwing, a faint smirk playing along her fangs as she contemplates something. "Had any chances to go bazaar diving in the black markets around here? I'm still itching to get a bit more variety in my munition life."
Sunder strikes Target 2 with disruptor.
Sunder strikes Target 3 with disruptor.
Sunder strikes Target 4 with disruptor.
Sunder strikes Target 5 with disruptor.
From Bleachers, Sheng remains silent, listening to the Dececpticons that sit in the lower segments of the stands, watching the sharpshooting contest.
From Bleachers, "THRUST!" Ramjet suddenly shouts in the direction of the maroon moron.
From Bleachers, "No, are there good ones?" asks Blitzwing. "I used up a lotta missiles on Springer, much good it did me. Pah."
From Bleachers, Thrust drops his diePod! The screen shatters and Thrust looks at Ramjet. "Ugh. Crapple will not replace this now! I can't my diePhone TreePee to work either!"
"The infamous Sweep Brothers come awfully close to one another," Clint mutters to himself. "What's with the doughnut, anyhow, son?" he asks Sunder. The alien cowboy writes down Sunder's name along with the score: 14. This puts Sunder right in the middle, behind those who have managed to get a perfect score so far. Burt looks up at wooden Rodimus Prime. Yessiree, a Rodimus Prime that is very wooden, useless, and still here only because of pure luck. Burt wonders if he should make the joke, or if it'd just be too obvious. Clint clears his throat loudly as a signal for Burt to hurry it up. "Okee dokey then. Up next is a fannnncy piece of machinery. Quickswitch. Haw! That's close to our sister planet's greatest hero, Quockswotch."
Both Alien Clint Eastwood and Alien Burt Lancaster take off their hats to pay their respects to the great hero that was Quockswotch.
Somewhere in Walmart, Quockswotch takes a bow.
From Bleachers, Ramjet beckons Thrust with a come hither wave of his fingers. "Come here!"
From Bleachers, Fusillade finally leans back on her elbows, enjoying the conversation about weaponry enough to keep herself from fixating too much on the contest. "Well, depends on what your definition of good is. You want serviceable? Maybe something with an EMP chaser? Minimissiles? There's a few promising places on the dark sides of some of the moons. She snorts faintly at some of the bellowing going on in the midsection of the stands.
From Bleachers, As KMFDM plays MK from his speakers, Thrust glares as an overweight Asian man yells, "Fight! Finish him! Flawless Victory!"
From Bleachers, Blitzwing takes delight in Thrust's misfortune. "Haw haw! Yeah, I want to pick up more of those swarm missiles, I must've got a bad batch or something. Not a single one hit! Embarrassing is what it is."
Grimlock hmms, and puts his rocket launcher away, at which point he begins to check over his double-blaster...and by 'check over' we mean 'Poke it a couple of times.' Thankfully, it doesn't go off and vaporize anyone. Yet.
Geist glances at grimlock. "Would you mind not playing with it in public?"
Focus calls out, "Go Quickswitch!"
Silverbolt begins to look over his own rifle....then removing one pack for another and sliding a round into the chamber, shotgun-style.
Grimlock grunts at Geist. "Me Grimlock do what me want! 'cuz ME GRIMLOCK AM WINNER."
The assault unit stepped forward toward the mock-up town. Whatever environment the targets were presented made no difference, was entirely irrelevant to the large Sixchanger. He mused internally. ...This was to be an exercise in discretion, a controlled level of force... The grim and neutral line of his mouth became a slight and growing smile the assault unit was not aware of. A form so large seemed slow and unwieldy, but its processors raced; anticipating and eager, the servos and hydraulics releasing all at once, as large crimson blasters hissed with release of energy, no sooner did the flash of a target appear did he shoot, and transform to tank mode and shoot toward a second target, then as a hovercraft in a flurry of frenetic movement, then to his winged assault beast mode to fire upon another target with his tail lasers--Hey, I've gotta tell the guys about this!--And the assault unit was finally hovering silent in the air, waiting for its last target--
...Where is the last one?! It demanded, anxious, impatient and annoyed, as it floated down the street, eyeing the potential target for its appearance--At last, it appears--Elita One in a bonnet! No--it's Megatron--
It fired at once--then the assault unit, guns smoking and not yet hot, shifted back into robot mode and turned its back to the town and returned where he was.
Jayson Redfield just kind of sits there, waiting... He glances around toward his comrades, wondering how each of them are going to fare.
Quickswitch misses Target 1 with its Photon Blasters attack.
Quickswitch strikes Target 2 with Photon Blasters.
Quickswitch strikes Target 3 with Photon Blasters.
Quickswitch strikes Target 4 with Photon Blasters.
Quickswitch misses Target 5 with its Photon Blasters attack.
Moonracer grins with a polite hint of smug as she prances back out to the waiting area past Grimlock. "I'm sure you've been told this before." She begins in all seriousness. "But it really isn't the size, it really is how you use it."
The town looks rather battered after the Sixchanger leaves it. His expression is utterly internalized and stolid.
Clint and Burt put their hats back on at the same time as the assault mech takes to the field. Both are expecting some form of carnage to take place. The only question in their mind is whether or not the town, or any of the innocent pop-ups, will survive the bloodshed. Burt hopes they survive. Alien Clint Eastwood on the other hand has no problem with everyone getting wiped out if need be. Burt nods his approval as Quick takes each one in a different mode, but unfortunately misses the first and last. "Little too fancy there, son," Clint says, scribbling Quickswitch's score in the dirt: 9. Burt reads off the next name: "Back to the humans. James Bailey. Lawman."
Raptor is late, very late-- wasn't his fault though! Darn Space-bridge was giving him slag! So he rushes in with his anti-gravs flaring. He lands down in the waiting area, looks like he be the last to go-- but that was fine.
Raptor snatches out his assault rifle and checks it over. The autobot 'Seeker' hovers to the area and lands down, looking over the last bits. Unclicking things, looking over things. Making sure it was clean and ready to go, after all-- His mentor taught him how to clean the rifle, and well, clean rifle was suppose to do better then an unclean one.
From Bleachers,
"SHE -*LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIED!!!*-" Fusillade bellows out in Moonracer's direction, before crossing ankles and giving a guffaw as she ricochets knuckles off Blitzwing's prodigious shoulder armor. "Hey, I didn't it at least so you don't have to be THAT embarrassed. Snort. But yes, I'm all about saturation. We should go on the last day to pick some up." As the Sweeps go, she gives a faintly approving nod, before raising hands to cover mouth at the Sixchanger's misfortune. Her optics say it all though.
Grimlock pauses. Looks to Moonracer. Then to Fusillade. Then to Moonracer. Then to Fusillade.
"Me Grimlock say femmes is confusing."
Jayson Redfield suddenly bursts into laughter. "I don't understand girls, either, Grimlock!"
Silverbolt peers at Grimlock. 'Fusillade's a decepticon. She doesn't know any better." She says before looking to Jayson. "I don't try to. Arcee's cool about things."
From Bleachers, "Down in front!" Ramjet cups a hand over the side of his mouth and shouts at the bellower down below. Rude people. Honestly!
From Bleachers,
"Come make me!" Fusillade shoots back in Ramjet's direction.
From Bleachers, "The last day is a good idea," agrees Blitzwing with a *clonk* from his shoulder, "because then if we have to draw down and kill some fools we won't get in too much trouble with Galvatron."
Soundwave looks slowly over at Raptor, and then slooooooowly over at Thrust.
James Bailey steps up to firing line, takes a moment to scan the targets quickly and then pulls out his standard-issue EDC sidearm. It looks pitifully tiny compared to the weapons some of the Autobots and Decepticons are packing, but it should register on the targets just as well.
His targets are bland and unremarkable - silouhettes of various blocky robotic forms (each with a tiny purple Decepticon symbol in the center of the torso and on the head).
James takes up a classic firing stance and aims at each one, firing a quick shot before moving to the next, alternating between head shots and torsos.
From Bleachers, "Who are you!?! There is, like, a dozen things sitting in front of me making it impossible for me to recognize y-- oh I've already given up caring." Ramjet turns his cone to the side and looks for that orange Decepticon. "Sunstorm! Where's my oil!"
James Bailey misses Target 1 with his Pistol attack.
James Bailey strikes Target 2 with Pistol.
James Bailey strikes Target 3 with Pistol.
James Bailey strikes Target 4 with Pistol.
Jayson Redfield grins grins up at Silverbolt.
James Bailey strikes Target 5 with Pistol.
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Yeah James!"
From Bleachers,
"S'what I thought. Can't even stand up to get your own damned high grade," Fusillade snarls before resuming the scowly forearms propped on front row railing stance. "Shouldn't have to," she mumbles into forearms at Blitzwing. "But it could be a nice bonus."
And I say they're duplicituos. Quickswitch remarks to himself. He shivered a bit as the image of Elita One-target missing her upper half came to his mind. His hulk cringes. He couldn't even pay attention to the next human up. The sounds from the bleachers eroded at him.
From Bleachers, Ramjet shouts, "THRUST! Don't make me call for your non-union, Junkion equivilent!"
"Not bad," the Clint Eastwood alien mutters, "For a lawman." Clint doesn't respect the law, of course, because he's a badass. Unless the lawman is an Inspector for the San Francisco Police Department who plays by his own rules and does what has to be done to see to it that justice is carried out. That's the exception that proves the rule. He writes down James's score of 14 in the dirt while Burt reads the next name on the list: "Apo... Apok-ree..." Burt hesitates. Burt isn't as badass as Clint Eastwood, you see. "The Quint." he finally says.
Apocryphacius is daydreaming a bit. When he is called, however, he stares out at the city, and he judges it. So cast in the name of God - ye not guilty. The Quintesson takes aim at Decepticon targets, for the most part, even popping one off at Galvatron, audacity he would never show in real life. He carefully avoids any and all human targets, and he goes out of his way to aim at Decepticon targets who are menacing human targets.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 1 with pistol.
Silverbolt smiles. 'Apocryphacius....you're up."
Apocryphacius strikes Target 2 with pistol.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 3 with pistol.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 4 with pistol.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 5 with pistol.
<EDC> James Bailey says, "Wow."
From Bleachers, Thrust locks his weapons on to Fusillade. "Lord Ramjet, shall I remove the burden to your optics?" He clicks his radio agian.
<EDC> Apocryphacius deems. "Acceptable."
"Perfect score," Clint says, nodding his approval for the first time during these matches. "Both in accuracy and in speed. Can't say I'll ever respect a dirty Quintesson, but if I did... it'd be one that's as good a shot as you." The cowboy alien scribbles Apocryphacius's perfect score while Burt marvels in awe of it. "Focus is our next contender."
From Bleachers, "Ugh!" Ramjet airs in disgust over his comm. "Shockwave may ream me for wasting ammunitions on mere carny folk! Find me Silverbolt instead! Obliterate him and obtain his electro-rifle battery for my collection."
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Tch--everyone's outshooting the sharpshooter!"
Moonracer giggles and taps Grimlock on the nose, or rather pantomimes it like pro wrestling from her diminutive height many feet shorter than the dinobot. "Just like Dinobots!" She compliments charitably, holstering her pistol and watching the other contestants taking their turn.
Focus stands up upon hearing his name. He holds the kunai leaf blade loosely in his hand as he approaches the targets. His hip compartment is open and easy in reach of the other weapons he'll need for each target. Focus opens his sensors bringing them all online to pick up every movement and stray radiation glimmer within his range. He focuses on the five targets however and lets the first blade fly. As soon as the first blade is released with a snap of the wrist, his other hand is already pulling out the next blade and throwing it towards the new target. So on and so forth until all five targets have a blade thrown at them.
Apocryphacius calmly checks over his weapon, making sure that it is not overheating. To Alien Clint, the Quintesson makes a gesture that might be a shrug. He does not expect respect.
Focus strikes Target 1 with Kunai Blades.
Focus strikes Target 2 with Kunai Blades.
Focus strikes Target 3 with Kunai Blades.
Focus strikes Target 4 with Kunai Blades.
Counterpunch looks around for a moment, simply watching but otherwise not taking comment thus far.
Focus strikes Target 5 with Kunai Blades.
From Bleachers, Sheng mentally blinks. Smelt it, she could have used throwing blades?! Why didn't anyone TELL her that?
From Bleachers, Ramjet would not tell Sheng for he is a not nice person! Only nice person gives good advice like that!
Grimlock peers down at Moonracer. "Uuuuh. Kay." he grunts, bringing up his free hand to scratch puzzled-like at the side of his helm. He hmmms, and then looks back to the matter at hand. "Him Focus good." he has to admit. "ALMOST as good as me Grimlock! But him DUMB! YOU FOCUS S'POSED TO USE GUN! HAW HAW HAW! YOU DUMMY!"
Quickswitch's optics brightened starkly as he emerged from his internal musings. Emotions tangled--an automatic warning--Quintession!!--Its shots were impressive as they registered slightly later. And Focus, the strange, sightless Autobot with even stranger ideas--"Woah!" he shouted.
"Can't help but notice that it's the robots, humans and... squids of the so-called heroic groups that're cleaning up so far," Clint Eastwood says, jotting down yet another score. It's possible that perfection is going to be required to move onto the next round. "Try to pick another black hat will you, Burt? I'm sick of seein' people run this gauntlet like they own the place." Burt nods and doesn't say a word. He only points to the tall, dark, and handsome Decepticon known as Soundwave.
Soundwave at the beginning of the first round just stands there patiently, awaiting the movements of the targets. His single optic sweeps for potential pop-up points, and combined with his superior senses gives him a relatively clear picture of what to expect. He turns to focus on each target as it pops up. Pop-up, assess, fire. Pop-up, assess, fire. He does not spend much time on each individual target. The cannon on his shoulder swivels with his gaze, and he fires with alacrity and mechanical precision. He does not stop to view the effects of his attacks, since at the instant the order is given to fire he is already calculating the next shot.
Soundwave strikes Target 1 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave strikes Target 2 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave strikes Target 3 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave strikes Target 4 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave strikes Target 5 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
From Bleachers, "Okay, maybe 'have to' was the wrong thing to say," admits Blitzwing, resting his chin on his hands and peering down into the target range and Quickswitch therein with an expression much like one would wear if someone asked one to have a look inside this dog corpse because it LOOKS like it swallowed a whole pigeon and they want a second opinion. "What I should've said was, 'in case we shoot a man in space-Reno just to watch him die.'"
Focus bows towards Grimlock and says, "There are more ways to hit someone at range than using a 'gun'." He moves to take a seat again and smiles out of the corner of his optics at Quickswitch.
Quickswitch is at the bottom of the bleachers. He moved back to where he was before.
Jayson Redfield raises a brow as even the blind mech does better than him. He sighs. "All that training for nothing--at least rate I won't make it to the third round."
Quickswitch smiles at Focus, "An excellent hit rate."
Silverbolt smiles at Jayson. "at least you'll do better than me, Jayson. I'm just here to see how I'll do. Slingshot's the sharpshooter."
Jayson Redfield laughs a bit. "Aw, I'm sure you'll do fine."
From Bleachers,
Fusillade tips a cup over the edge of the railing atop Quickswitch's sullen brow, and darts behind Blitzwing's bulk. "Well don't give away ALL of your party plans, sheesh. Save some surprises."
"Bit more like it," alien Clint Eastwood grunts at Soundwave's picture-perfect performance. "Lets go fer another Decepticon." Burt nods in agreement. "Punch is up next." Pause. Burt looks down. "Aw I'm sorry. Says Counterpunch. Heh, got them confused fer some reason."
"That dumb!" Grimlock says. "Him Punch am YELLOW. Counterpunch PURPLY. Them TOTALLY DIFFERENT!"
Counterpunch waits for the Alien Clint Eastwood or Alien Burt Lancaster to call him to take his position. He watches the display of those assembled, taking an especially keen interest in Grimlock and Moonracer both. If anyone is going to be a truly serious challenge to his intent to defend his title from last Olympics, it'll be Moonracer. But Grimlock... yes, that's going to be surprising as well, particularly the spectacular destruction of the fifth target with that galaxial rocket launcher of his. And then the Quintesson EDC member... the blind Autobot martial artist known as Focus... now Soundwave, all with perfect scores.
Once called up, he moves slowly into position, optics narrowed, though for a moment they dim before brightening again. He just /looks/ at the two alien mockeries of Western fame, before focusing on the range ahead of him. The first two targets are civilian. The third pops up as his first target, and then on down the line until the fifth and final 'true' target pops up and he shoots it. Only then does he step back, turning around and moving to resume his place in the line-up.
Counterpunch strikes Target 1 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 2 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 3 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Jayson Redfield taps his radio. "Hey, uh, Silverbolt? Thrust wants me to kill you."
Counterpunch strikes Target 4 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 5 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
From Bleachers, "This is boring," mutters Blitzwing. "Nobody's missing. Somebody miss!"
Nate Briar succeeds in grasping Nate Briar, throwing him off-balance.
Silverbolt chuckles lightly. "I'm not surprised. Hundred bucks on orders from Ramjet. Ramjet feels small when he's not the only flyer."
Burt scratches his head with a pencil at Grimlock's retort. "Whut? Wait, which one's the purple one?" Lancaster just can't figure it out, and he studies the sheet some more. Clint Eastwood writes down 15 next to Counterpunch's name in the dirt even as debris from one of the wooden pop-up aliens rains down around him. Clint doesn't flinch, though, due to previously explained badassery. "Haw!" Burt laughs. "Now them Cawns is on top! Time to give the humans another chance. It's one of them Briar folk up next!" Aliens never could tell them apart. Your go, Nate.
Nate holds up his humble sniper rifle. He looks to those whom he will be competing with and waves a hand as he is handed his weapon from EDC Captain Crunch. His sniper rifle stands at 3 feet tall in height. He attaches the scope and waits for it kick in with the sensory and begins set himself up for his round. He watches as the targets pop out and he fires, barely even needing to move. His trigger finger and his eyes act in a fluid motion as he pulls the trigger, not even needing to really think of what he was shooting at.
The first target? A blue Britney Spears with aliens! Nate tries to pump her full of bullet holes. The second target? A Klingon with prune juice. Third and Fourth targets are Bebop and Rocksteady. And finally for Target Five
Nate Briar strikes Target 1 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 2 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 3 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 4 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 5 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Jayson Redfield with For Shame.
From Bleachers, "Yeah, human riot! Kill eachother and save us the trouble!" shouts Blitzwing.
<EDC> Apocryphacius says, "...Redfield, are you injured?"
Quickswitch twitches at the incessant noise from the bleachers. He appraised the Decepticon and his performance. Counterpunch didn't look like much, but hmm, he was a decent shot, Quickswitch supposed and--another human? Quickswitch rubs at his forehead and face, finding himself impatient and bored.
Sunder. Eating. An. Old. Lady.
Nate heads back to his seat and smiles at Jayson as he rests a hand on him.
From Bleachers, Fusillade breaks into peals of laughter at Blitzwing, forgetting that she was supposed to be hiding from him. Maybe she just didn't care if the Autobot got pissed off at the container bonking off his head.
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "...No...just my pride."
<EDC> Apocryphacius says, "Pride is a portion of anatomy that medical science cannot heal."
Jayson Redfield just stares at Nate for a moment, then shakes his head. "Everyone's outshooting the sharpshooter. I really suck, don't I?"
Clint watches as yet another perfect score is racked up, this time by Nate. This is good since it assures the humans that someone will make it to Round 2. "Can't wait till we start upping the difficulty on this," he mutters. Burt meanwhile has stopped becoming impressed with the perfect scores, since he figures the targets are just malfunctioning at this point. "Back the Aw-toe-bots. This time it's one of them Air-ee-oh-bawts. Silverbolt? Haw! That's a funny name. Go 'head, Silverbolt!"
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Uh, yeah. Thanks, Apo."
Silverbolt nods to the judges and hefts his rifle into a ready position. Stalking out towards the range, he wastes no time firing a laser shot into the first target, then turning the rifle to hit the second. Making a few more steps before he fires off a third shot, then a fourth.....and he finaly turns back around to unload on the fifth target. Placing the rifle on his shoulder.....Silverbolt makes his way back, shaking his head.
Silverbolt strikes Target 1 with laser.
From Bleachers, Fusillade heckles, "MISS! MISS! YOU SUCK!!!"
Silverbolt strikes Target 2 with laser.
A change in level sets the speed to 10 * level and sets the size to the inverse of the level. For instance, level 1 is size 10, level 2 is size 9, level 3 is size 8, etc.
Silverbolt strikes Target 3 with laser.
Silverbolt misses Target 4 with his laser attack.
Silverbolt strikes Target 5 with laser.
From Bleachers, Thrust shouts, "MISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"
He then shouts, "I oncze a man! Cobra!"
<KNUJ> Monstereo says, "Ladies and gentlemen. Mr Conway Twitty. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNwT5jXcGD0"
From Bleachers, "Yeah, Silverbolt sucks!" agrees Blitzwing, pumping a fist in the air. "You lose, loser!"
"Finally," Clint says. He peers up at the stands where the Decepticons are being all mean to Silverbolt. "Did the nerves get you, son? Them hecklers get you? Well that's just too damned bad for you." The alien writes down Silverbolt's score of 11 near the bottom of the pile. "Hmm. Different leader of one of them combiners up next," Burt notes. "Hawt Spawt."
From Bleachers, Fusillade cheers, and flails arms about in the air like a Bad Idea Bear(tm)! "Yayyyyyyyyyyyy!"
"Oh my... ...well then." the Protectobot Commander let's out, looking a bit flustered at the moment. He pushes is way politely through the crowd, with a "Excuse me." here and a "Pardon me." there, "Make way." and of course a "Sorry." rattled off in quick succession. Hot Spot trudges his way down the abandoned street, the high pressure hose in his hands. "Here goes nothing!" The target's pop up in quick sucession, he let's the handle of the hose drop... ...letting out precision pressurized water shots at the intended targets.
Hot Spot strikes Target 1 with Firehose Spray...
Hot Spot strikes Target 2 with Firehose Spray...
Hot Spot strikes Target 3 with Firehose Spray...
Hot Spot strikes Target 4 with Firehose Spray...
Hot Spot strikes Target 5 with Firehose Spray...
Silverbolt chuckles lightly. "Good shooting Hot Spot!"
The assault unit brushed away at the liquid further. He glanced up, a seeking, baffled glance at whatever had done that. He took a random step, crushing the cup that had bonked him unnoticed. Well, he noticed it now, dammit--He glares up in the general direction of Fusillade, scowling.
From Bleachers, Thrust loads some garbage into his missile launcher and tries to peg Fusillade with it as he yells, "Down in front!"
Moonracer claps excitedly for Hot Spots effective dispersal of fire diffusing spray, then looks to the announcers as she awaits the next round.
Jayson Redfield folds his arms and leans back in his seat.
From Bleachers, Thrust succeeds in grasping Fusillade, throwing her off-balance.
Focus claps for Silverbolt. The shooting was good, he can't deny that.
From Bleachers, Fusillade wraps fingertalons about the edge of the railing, wingblades swishing coyly about her knees. She returns Quickswitch's fierce gaze with a smarmy grin of her own, before a whoosh and patter of refuse coats her. She acks, glances down at herself, back up in Thrust's direction. Turning back to the Autobot, she points a finger in the conehead's direction -- towards the OBVIOUS source of that offending cup.
"Guess we know which of them combiner has the better shot for a leader," Clint sneers. Unfortunately Silverbolt takes Hot Spot's success in stride and does not start off a catastrophic Autobot civil war where chaos would reign for thousands of years. Alien Clint Eastwood will have to formulate another plan for that, then. Meanwhile, Alien Burt Lancaster reads off the next name. "Aramasu Hikage. Gosh, Clint. It's one of them /neenjas/. We don't allow them on our planet!"
Aramasu Hikage opens his eyes when he is called and walks towards the starting line with bow...yes a bow. He cocks the first arrow then closes his eyes a few seconds and begins walking down the alley. The breathing is slow and controlled, Hikage is trying to feel his environment falling into a predator state reacting to the slightest movement.
As each target pops the ninja's years of training take over, drawing the bow and releasing the arrow towards the cardboard Cyclonus. He continues the same motions with a few crouches and spins to minimize his silhouette and stabilize his shot. Arrow after arrow throughout his target list: Galvatron, Scourge, Shockwave and Huffer...(nobody likes Huffer)
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 1 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 2 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 3 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 4 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 5 with Flight arrow.
From Bleachers, Blitzwing points at Thrust too, more out of reflex than anything else. Thrust is always convenient that way.
From Bleachers, Thrust taps his conehead. "Fusillade, if you were so -- so --- tough... You'd take Slivercult out in the arenaaaaaaaaah." He then burps and mumbles, "I can smell colors. I am maroon!"
James Bailey watches the performance from where he's waiting next to Jayson. He confers quietly with Jayson, pointing at the various shooters and things that they seem to be doing.
Grimlock follows Quickswitch's glance up into the bleachers, and he grunts. "Him Thrust am JERK!" he growls. "You Quickswitch should BREAK HIM FACE!" the dinocommander flexes his knuckles- clearly relishing the idea.
<EDC> Lieutenant Nate Briar says, "Jayson, nothing is wrong with you except you allowed yourself to get cocky. You did well last night. Now you pay for it tonight."
Alien Clint Eastwood puts his hand on his six shooter, watching Aramasu go. "After this here event, Burt, we'll go ninja huntin'. We're runnin' low on meat." He spits out a wad of tabacco. "Bring the rifles. Looks like this one's a fighter." Burt nods in agreement and calls out the next (and second last) name: "Raptor's turn. We're almost done round 1, Clint! Then we start chopping away the losers."
Raptor inhales deeply as his visor slides down, he rests his assault rifle on his shoulders. He stands there waiting his turn. His free hand tightens gently, as he whispers something to himself softly. If anyone can read lips, it looks like he is praying.
Then, when he is called, he slowly walks onto the small town. He smirks softly, before his visor flickers a few times, adjusting to what these targets were as he watched them. As soon has they pop up, his HUD system automaticly locks on, or so he hopes.
He takes aim, and fires, his assault rifle popping off shots in quick bursts, he continues to walk down the lane of the city doing so, and thankfully, avoiding any 'fake' targets that might try to trick him.
Raptor strikes Target 1 with Laser Assault Rifle.
Raptor strikes Target 2 with Laser Assault Rifle.
Raptor misses Target 3 with his Laser Assault Rifle attack.
Raptor misses Target 4 with his Laser Assault Rifle attack.
Raptor strikes Target 5 with Laser Assault Rifle.
Sixshot: 9
Jayson Redfield: 9
Silverbolt: 11
Geist: 13
James Bailey: 14
Sunder: 14
Apocryphacius: 15
Aramasu Hikage: 15
Counterpunch: 15
Focus: 15
Grimlock: 15
Hot Spot: 15
Moonracer: 15
Nate Briar: 15
Soundwave: 15
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "I'm not being cocky..."
Clint tsks at Raptor's performance. "Bad luck in the middle there, kid, but luck's all a part of the game. That third and fourth target would've shot yew dead." He scribbles Raptor's name in the dirt, and puts his score of 8 next to it. "Dead last, Autobot. Emphasis on the 'dead'." Burt meanwhile points to Outrun, the last competitor (I think) of Round 1.
Vector WX3 <Outrun> revs his engine to show his impatience to start. The speedster watched many western movies since he first came on Earth and he can't wait to try his skill at this contest. As soon as the alien call his name, he rolls down the street at full speed. The first target pop on his left. He breaks and turns left, firing at it. not waiting to see the result, he head back towards the street, shooting at two more hostile target on his way. Suddenly an alien mother with her babies popup right in the middle of the street! Outrun has hard time avoiding them. A moment later he shoots the 4th target which stands at the top of a building. Hearing a sound behind him, he executes a sharp U-turn..his last target appeared behind him...he looks at it for a moment before firing his lasers to obliterate it.
Outrun strikes Target 1 with Side Lasers.
Outrun strikes Target 2 with Side Lasers.
Outrun strikes Target 3 with Side Lasers.
Outrun strikes Target 4 with Side Lasers.
Outrun strikes Target 5 with Side Lasers.
Raptor glances over his shoulder and grumbles as he missed one, "..go figure.." He slaps another clip in, before he takes a seat, waiting for the next round-- if he can get into the next round. "...offroad.." He whispers the name gently and sighs, leaning the head back. "..gotta do this.."
Jayson Redfield just takes a deep breath...
...Thrust... One of those Seekers!
Quickswitch transforms, letting loose a huge, feral snarl and gathering himself up to leap up onto the railing, wings out sharply as he landed, balanced on it, the event forgotten. Grimlock's suggestion was a good one, in fact, a foregone conclusion and in fact he found fury racing through his neural network and didn't give a frag which one he got his jaws around.
Faster than the eye can follow, Quickswitch transforms into an assault beast.
"And we end on a perfect note, huh?" Clint Eastwood mutters. He isn't happy. Not happy at all. The cowboy alien gestures for everyone to approach him. Theere they can see the rankings in the dirt. Clint then goes ahead and draws a line between those who are advancing to round 2, and those who are not. For those who are not, he slowly rubs them out with his foot.
Burt meanwhile says, "Round 2! Speed up the targets!" he shouts to the aides. "Add in more innocent pop-ups! Make sure they're gettin' assaulted from all sides now, y'hear?!"
Raptor: 8
Sixshot: 9
Jayson Redfield: 9
Silverbolt: 11
Geist: 13
James Bailey: 14
Sunder: 14
Apocryphacius: 15
Aramasu Hikage: 15
Counterpunch: 15
Focus: 15
Grimlock: 15
Hot Spot: 15
Moonracer: 15
Nate Briar: 15
Outrun: 15
Soundwave: 15
From Bleachers, Sheng curses and runs down the stands, getting in Quickswitches way. "No! we are under truce!"
From Bleachers, "Oh no!" shouts Blitzwing in mock-terror. "There's a pastel cube in the stands and it's OUT of CONTROL!"
Target 1 undergoes several quiet internal adjustments. "Skill Level set to 8," it emits. "This unit is prepared for the next round."
Target 2 undergoes several quiet internal adjustments. "Skill Level set to 8," it emits. "This unit is prepared for the next round."
Target 3 undergoes several quiet internal adjustments. "Skill Level set to 8," it emits. "This unit is prepared for the next round."
Target 4 undergoes several quiet internal adjustments. "Skill Level set to 8," it emits. "This unit is prepared for the next round."
Target 5 undergoes several quiet internal adjustments. "Skill Level set to 8," it emits. "This unit is prepared for the next round."
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Well, it's official. I totally suck."
<EDC> James Bailey says, "Heh. You're not the only one, kid. C'mon, let's find a good seat. Maybe we can learn something from these guys."
<EDC> Apocryphacius says, "I am not registering any suction effects in your general vicinity."
<EDC> Aramasu Hikage says, "The awnser is simple: servos and targeting software."
Grimlock aaaws as Sheng gets in the way. "Why you Sheng spoil fun?" he grunts. "Them septi-cons started it! Look! Look!" he points accusingly at Thrust. "Him Thrust am...doing...stuff..." he trails off for a moment. "So we SMASH!" This is a pretty standard solution for Grimlock.
<EDC> James Bailey says, "Uh, scratch that kid. The stands aren't looking so safe either. Maybe we can get a good view over on the side here."
From Bleachers, Sheng says, "No we most certainly do NOT! Not under truce!"
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield mutters, "I should've applied to be an exo specialist. At least there's no competition for *that*." Yeah, he's feeling a little dejected right now.
Sunder grumbles when he realizes how many contestants got a perfect score, and the realization that this leaves him out of the next round. Robbed again? Better luck next year. He fiddles with the sight on his disruptor rifle, as a slight inconsistency in the mechanism had caused him to miss Rodimus Prime's target.
From Bleachers, Fusillade shrieks in mirth at the cube comment, and falls over helplessly on her side as Quickswitch surges past. She's been knocked off her feet by sheer fright. Uh, yeah. That's her story and she's sticking to it.
Raptor watches himself get kicked out and his optics dim slightly behind that black visor.
However to the public view, it is just seen a serious face, no emotion, as he nods, waves his hand as he heads for the exit, "Good luck everyone.."
Yea-- The flyer of the autobot was struck down...
Geist puts away his weapon and glances at the next round contenders. 2 Decepticons and 8 others that need to be shot.
Hot Spot says, "I think everyone deserves a round of applause..."
Hot Spot starts to clap... ...but soon stops when no one around him follows his lead, what a leader he is...huh?
Silverbolt claps as well....doesn't mind at all.
Raptor moves to the Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens.
"Truce..?" Quickswitch rumbled quietly between fangs. He knew he ought to care about the truce.. But their collective afts are gettin on his nerves, fraggin him off-- Then suddenly there were other thoughts and emotions and he didn't even care or notice he'd been culled. Remember what Impactor said. He couldn't allow that, wouldn't /dare/ allow that to slip his prioritization. His claws curled around the railing, slicing along the metal railing and there as he moved and fidgeted. The beast hissed. There were too many here.
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "I wish you guys the best of luck!"
From Bleachers, Sheng stays firmly in Quickswitch's path. "Aye. Truce. Ignore them. They're cowardly fools. Please. Stand down."
Jayson Redfield huffs and leaves his seat, holstering his gun and then heading over to James. "What kind of training were *they* put through?" he grumbles. "I'm a freaking *sharpshooter* and I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a bazooka."
Clint rolls his eyes at Hot Spot's soccer mom call for a round of applause. Needless to say, he doesn't join in with any applause, rounds or otherwise. Burt Lancaster does, though, because Burt Lancaster is not a MAN like Clint Eastwood. Maybe someday, after hanging out with Clint for long enough, he may achieve man status. But maybe not. It isn't easy. Burt is, however, fully capable of reading from a list of names: "Squid boy is up first fer Round 2."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "How are the standings so far?"
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Me Grimlock NEVER MISS."
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "...just like bunch of other chumps."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "I'm out. did better than I thought too."
Apocryphacius gets out what appears to be a blinking Bouncy Ball. The little sphere cusses at him in Binary, for whoever here speaks Binary. The Quintesson hurls it at the targets: first, another Quintesson, who holds up a scalpel and is about to perform an unethetical dental procedure on a top-hatted fellow strapped into a chair. The ball zooms back to him, and he catches it. The orb struggles in his grip, screaming machine language obscenities, but he flings it at the second target: a mad bomber atop a train, avoiding the innocent conductor. Third, a Decepticon in a vest and handlebar mustache, going over the head of a strict schoolmarm. Fourth, a Decepticon who is attempting to divide voting districts in such a manner as to control the vote, the dreaded Gerrymander! Fifth... at a cowboy wizard ninja pirate doctor. Their kind is not welcome in these parts! Hey, it was that or flinging the ball at a totally legitimate lady who was taking totally legitimate money from a totally legitimate gentleman. Ahem. Finally, he puts away the enraged little Bouncy Ball.
From Bleachers,
"Say that to my face, you brassy ten karat hussy!" Fusillade barks up at Sheng.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 1 with Bouncy Ball of Death.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 2 with Bouncy Ball of Death.
Apocryphacius strikes Target 3 with Bouncy Ball of Death.
Apocryphacius misses Target 4 with his Bouncy Ball of Death attack.
Apocryphacius misses Target 5 with his Bouncy Ball of Death attack.
<EDC> Lieutenant Nate Briar says, "Good try, Sir."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Who's left for the Decepticons?"
Geist glides away. He'll read about the winner in the paper tomorrow. For now, he goes a haunting.
Silverbolt looks to Quickswitch. "They're Decepticons Quickswitch. For now, we're under a truce. No shooting at them. besides....they're not worth the energon to power up your lasers."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Soundwave I believe."
Geist moves to the Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens.
<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "At least you actually participated. I think *my* best shot would've just been to chew on the targets."
<Autobot> Outrun says, "And Counterpunch"
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "You no steal me Grimlock's trick!"
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Soundwave and Counterpunch."
<Autobot> Hot Spot says, "Counterpunch and Soundwave."
From Bleachers, Sheng calmly looks at Fusillade. "You are a cowardly fool." she returns her attention to Quickswitch.
From Bleachers, "Yeah, you should conserve your energon for transforming into an unrecognizable mess," jeers Blitzwing.
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "I got the lowest score-- so whatever... You guys do your best!"
No entry for 'player_cre'.
Apocryphacius looks... mildly disappointed with himself. He is not a warrior, after all. Shooting things... or hitting them with a psychotic bouncy ball, as the case may be, is not his true forte.
"Yeah!" Grimlock says, "No use lasers! Use SMASHINGS!"
<Autobot> Monstereo says, "Finkle and Einhorn. Einhorn and Finkle..."
Even Clint has to wince at the bad luck there. "That's s'what we call choking, son. You squiddies might not understand the term, but it means failing at the finish line." He rubs out Apocryphacius's old score of 15 and replaces it with a less impressive 6. Burt, happy that the targets are being nastier to the competitors, reads off the next name: "Aramasu Hikage!" It seems ol' Burt has finally understood the concept of alphabetical order.
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Huh... watch out for Counterpunch. He took the gold last year. Moonracer, darlin', you'd best show those Decepticons who's boss."
Sunder wanders into the stands, content to watch the rest of the shooting match.
<Autobot> Moonracer says, "I think Galvatron's their boss, shug'."
Aramasu Hikage is rather happy that the mastery of his own body allows him to match advanced targeting software from alien robots. The event is not finished yet so no rejoicing yet.
Hikage walks up to the firing line once again with his first arrow already cocked and his bow at 'low-ready'. He begins the course firing arrows at enemy targets such as Decepticons and avoiding moms and babies. Keeping his pace steady and his breathing even. Like his sensei said: slow is smooth and smooth is fast.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 1 with Flight arrow.
<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "Grimlock, I have fangs. I'm slaggin' well gonna use 'em."
Aramasu Hikage misses Target 2 with his Flight arrow attack.
Aramasu Hikage misses Target 3 with his Flight arrow attack.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 4 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 5 with Flight arrow.
From Bleachers,
With a snarl, Fusillade leaps for the more lithe Autobot, "Now that's what I'm talking about! That came out pretty flat though, sure you're just being an Automatic Robot?!" Immediately, the more enterprising seat-goers start up an impromptu betting pool.
From Bleachers, Fusillade succeeds in grasping Sheng, throwing her off-balance.
<EDC> Sam says, "..."
From Bleachers, "I hope you guys kept the receipt for your sixchanger," adds Blitzwing. "I don't think it's supposed to work like that."
<EDC> Sam, the exo specialist, decides it would be better not to actually respond.
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse chuckles. "You know what I mean, Moonracer. Clean their clocks."
Clint Eastwood whispers something to an aide. The aide nods and heads off to get the hunting rifles. They aren't going to let Aramasu off the planet without a good ol' fashioned Ninja Hunt. But don't worry, it's all in good fun and nobody gets hurt except for the ninja. "10 points fer the EDCer. He's in first place for the next round so far."
Assault Beast <Quickswitch> is also huge and getting in the way of patrons and fans who shout at him to get out of the way. He was certain he heard Blitzwing and also Fusillade over the rabble and part of it, too. He hisses at the femme, and retracts his stubby wings. The approximation of a beast shuddered, confused.. He lept down from the railing, stuffing down his wrath--ONLY because Impactor warned him against such actions and then Blitzwing was speaking again and he felt his processes surge and twist.
Clint coughs to get Burt's attention. "Oh, right! Counterpunch! Not Punch. Counnn-" "-shut up, Burt. We all get the joke," Clint interjects.
Counterpunch looks at the scores. Two humans, two Autobots, and three Decepticons out of it. Nine others, including him, remaining. Definitely Autobot-dominated: five Autobots. Three EDC personnel, including the Quintesson. And just he and Soundwave for the Decepticons. He looks at Soundwave, then moves to return to his place and await the signal for his next round of sharpshooting.
He looks around at the others for a moment, watching the Quintesson and the alt-human, then focuses back on the range once more. He examines it closely for a moment before he is called to take his turn. Quietly, as before, he steps up to the line, optics flickering dim and then brightening once more soon thereafter... and waits...
He doesn't have to wait long before the first target comes up. A series of targets follow, more of them 'civilian' targets, but Counterpunch's discipline keeps him focused on simply the true targets. Once the final target pops up and he fires that last time, he slowly steps back, his expression stoic and emotionless as ever. The benefits of having a facemask and an optic band.
Counterpunch strikes Target 1 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 2 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch misses Target 3 with his Electrostatic Disruptor attack.
Counterpunch strikes Target 4 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
From Bleachers, Thrust is getting annoyed with Fusillade and sits there, watching her act up. He considers attacking her.
Counterpunch strikes Target 5 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
From Bleachers, "Girlfight!" cheers Blitzwing as Fusillade pounces Sheng. "Pull her cowlings off, yeah!"
"See!" Grimlock says as Fusillade lunges at Sheng. "THEM SEPTI-CONS STARTED IT." he says things loud & slowly, as if explaining something to a particularly dense child. He eyes the brawl longingly, but remains put. "You septi-cons wait 'til me Grimlock win medals! Then me SMASH YOU ALL!"
"Them scores is just getting better and better this round, hmm?" Clint says with a chuckle. "Wonder if we're about to wander back into Perfection Country again." Burt shrugs, "We'll find out, Clint, as the first Autobot of round 2, Focus, is up next."
From Bleachers, Sheng is tackled by Fusillade and growls faintly, twisting to get free of the Decepticon, keeping her talons sheilded. "I will not fight you, Decepticon. We have a TRUCE, coward."
From Bleachers, Sheng succeeds in grasping Fusillade, throwing her off-balance.
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield says, "Whoa, femme fight!"
Once again, Focus stands up and walks towards the line. However, instead of kunai blades, he pulls out several different types of shruiken this time. They fit easily between his thumb and index finger, ready to be thrown. After a few moments, the small targets come zipping around a corner and towards Focus, all ducking and dodging. Each drone, which oddly looks like a flying innocent baby thanks to holo-projectors, flies around Focus giving him a hard time trying to track them by sound alone. Focus opens himself back up to seeing everything but normal light again and picks out the drones easily against everything else. The autobot circuit-su master lefts the bladed and pointed disks cocking back his arm to let them fly nearly all at once, each aiming for their own targets.
Focus strikes Target 1 with Shruikan Blades.
Focus strikes Target 2 with Shruikan Blades.
Focus misses Target 3 with his Shruikan Blades attack.
Focus misses Target 4 with his Shruikan Blades attack.
Focus strikes Target 5 with Shruikan Blades.
<Autobot> First Aid says, "Hello everyone."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "hey First Aid. Hot Spot's in the second Round."
<Autobot> First Aid says, "Second round?"
<Autobot> Focus says, "Sheng, do you require assistance?"
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "The sharpshooting contest."
"Not gonna lie, Burt, I'm glad these machines and off-worlders are startin' to miss. Focus here has an 8. It was getting pretty danged disgusting with all the perfection around here. Just gives all them competitors a false sense of pride when really they couldn't outshoot my grand mammy on my ma's side." "Yer old grand mammy on yer ma's side's been dead fer twenty-eight years, Clint!" Burt replies. "I stand by my word, son," Clint retorts. "Call up the next competitor." Burt winces. "Awww... no. It's Grimlock's turn, Clint..."
<Autobot> Sky Lynx says, "Sheng?"
<Autobot> Hot Spot says, "Indeed, I have advanced to the second round in the event."
<Autobot> Sheng says, "I SHOULD be alright. Planning on leaving the moment I can. *growls* Slagging cons."
<Autobot> Sky Lynx says, "Is everything alright, chaps?"
<Autobot> First Aid says, "What event is it?"
From Bleachers,
"That's racial profiling! If you really wanna be ignorant and prejudicial, at least come up with some other vapid and insipid limp-wristed insult. The 'coward' line got old the first time it came out of your mealy mouth! Get outta here and take your pit bull with you, -princess--," Fusillade sneers trimumphantly at Sheng's pacifism.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Sharpshooting."
Grimlock hnnfs. "Finally. Me Grimlock's turn!"
And he gets to work! Holding his double-blaster in both hands, now, he walks through the target-town with the ponderous slowness of a battleship- and nearly as much firepower. Zap! Zap! "Take THAT, Octane!" he says to one cutout. "And THAT, you Dirge! N' you Rumble go splodey now! Haw! You Shockwave no so tough!" he snaps off another brace of laser blasts- taking way too much pleasure in dispensing mayhem. And then, finally. "Ooo! You Galvy-tron STUPID HEAD!" *Pewpewpew!*
Grimlock lowers his still-smoking weapon, and grunts. "That almost as good as real thing." he muses.
Grimlock misses Target 1 with his Little Bitty Laser. attack.
Moonracer claps excitedly for Grimlock, "Let's see what you got Big Guy!"
Grimlock misses Target 2 with his Little Bitty Laser. attack.
Grimlock misses Target 3 with his Little Bitty Laser. attack.
Grimlock strikes Target 4 with Little Bitty Laser..
Grimlock misses Target 5 with his Little Bitty Laser. attack.
<Autobot> First Aid says, "I see--"
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "RAAAAAAGH!"
<Autobot> First Aid says, "I wish you best of luck then Commander."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Uh oh... that doesn't sound good."
<Autobot> Hot Spot says, "Thank you First Aid."
<Autobot> Sky Lynx says, "Do you wish for me to come and get you Sheng?"
Moonracer casts a sidelong look over in Fusillade's direction speaking to Grimlock as he leaves the shooting range. "See, girls lie. But next year, you'll know how to use it!"
"Haw haw haw!" Burt laughs and slaps his knee at Grimlock's performance. "So much fer being the greatest threat them Autobots have to offer! Haw!"
Clint shakes his head, "That-away, Burt. Tick off the giant killer machine why don'tcha? Think yer faster than the targets out there, then?" Clint writes down Grimlock's score of 4.
Burt gulps and quickly stops laughing at the Dinobot Commander. "It's the boy scout's turn, Clint. Lets see what Hot Spot can do."
From Bleachers, Sheng smirks at Fusillade. "Ach, so many words to avoid the fact I speak the truth." she calmly turns and walks back up to the high point in the stands. She glances at Thrust, pausing a moment with optic ridges raised before continuing on. Interesting.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Why not just take em all out?"
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "All the Cons here."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "Because this is the Olympics--"
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Because of the Truce, Quickswitch."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "and we are suppose to be at a Truce.."
<Autobot> Focus says, "And this planet's government would have us arrested."
<Autobot> Sheng says, "That would be why I did not strike back and walked away."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "I don't /CARE/ about any slaggin truce!"
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "Was.. kinda nice last year-- seems con have gotten worse over a year."
<Autobot> Focus says, "No, you wouldn't..."
"Again... ...already. Alright." Hot Spot gulps, approaching the deserted street again. Instead of his fire hose, the Protectobot Commander has five throwing axes in his 'arsenal'. "Wish me luck!" he blurts out, the first target popping up.
From Bleachers,
Sunder smirks at the back-and-forth between the usual suspects(tm). He is content to sit back and concentrate on Grimlock's sudden ill luck. Fate was a strange mistress indeed...
From Bleachers,
"What truth? You don't -KNOW- jack slag about me, glitch," Fusillade props hands up on her hips. "And what is up with that 'ach' crap? You got lil' robo-tears caught in your throat? Choking on your OWN cowardice on up there?"
"GAH!" Grimlock blasts a lot! But...he doesn't seem to do much damage. "STUPID THING!" and with that, he just throws his weapon at the final target (missing, even)...and then he hmms, looking back to the stands. "That okay." he decides. "'cus now me Grimlock SMASH YOU SEPTI CONS!"
And he takes off into the air to glare at the con contingent...but it seems the brawl has petered out. Dang!
Hot Spot strikes Target 1 with Axe Throw.
<Autobot> First Aid says, "Quickswitch, if you open fire on any of the decepticons, you will break our truce. More-so, if you break the Truce, you will only give the decepticons more fire-power. Think for once and do not act."
Hot Spot misses Target 2 with its Axe Throw attack.
Hot Spot misses Target 3 with its Axe Throw attack.
Hot Spot strikes Target 4 with Axe Throw.
Hot Spot strikes Target 5 with Axe Throw.
<Autobot> First Aid says, "Bad enough our relations with the humans is already on a thinner line then it should be."
From Bleachers, "Maybe it's trying to do like a Braveheart type voice or something," muses Blitzwing.
From Bleachers, Sheng simply chuckles, taking her seat, ignoring the cons.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "you ok, Sheng?"
"What's that up there in the stands, Burt?" Clint asks, apparently forgetting to pay attention to the Protectobot's performance. Burt shrugs, "Them Cawns and Bots are gettin' antsy at one another." "That so? Well shoot, hope they don't remember that they can call out them enemies for shootouts whenever they danged well want." Clint's voice suggests that he in fact /does/ want them to remember this. Wants them to remember this very well!
Burt asks the obvious question, "What if they refuse the challenge?" "Well then, Burt, they'd be nothing more than a yellow bellied coward, now wouldn't they? Call up the next competitor, Burt. Hot Spot here has 10. Puts him in second if you can believe it."
"Right!" Burt says, "Moonracer, the gal with the style, is up next!"
<Autobot> Quickswitch responds, "Impactor has already given his orders."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "And I will obey them."
From Bleachers,
An insurance themed Junkion jumps up. "Ack! AFLACK!" before fluttering away to get a lemonade icee.
"Smelt, I don't know," Fusillade exhales out at Blitzwing, before pointing to Grimlock. "See, this guy's night just got completely RUINED by her."
<Autobot> Sheng says, "I am alright. One of the con jets tackled me, but I worked loose. Their ideas of insults are easy to ignore."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "...There is no further reason to remain at this assembly..."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "They what?"
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "You Quickswitch right! Let's go do better stuffs!"
<Autobot> Sky Lynx says, "Leave it to the decepticons to try and break a truce early..."
From Bleachers, "I didn't have Grimlock pegged for a sharpshooter anyhow," agrees Blitzwing.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "I've expected this actually, Sky Lynx."
Grimlock hmms, and just *GLARES* at the Decepticons for a bit...and then hnfs. "This dumb! Me Grimlock leaving!" and with that, he does! Maybe he'll go to the ninja planet or something.
From Bleachers, Fusillade tosses a "S'not -my- fault there's nothing for you to watch," Fusillade remarks in the retreating Dinobot's direction.
From Bleachers, Raptor didn't go to far, till he heard all the ruckus and some-- other requests as well. So the Autobot 'Seeker' returned, to well, attempt to break up a fight. He was a tall mech anyhow, maybe not as tall has Ultra Magnus, but he could nearly look Rodimus square in the optics. "Sheng.." Raptor kinda calls out as he hovers up the stands, since he really can't walk up stairs very well. "Everything alright?"
<Autobot> First Aid says, "What is that old saying on Truce's Hot Spot? I believe we use to say back at the Ark--"
<Autobot> First Aid says, "Truce for Decepticons only gives them time to sharpen there blades and reload there guns?"
From Bleachers, Sheng nods. "All is well. Just watching the contest and ignoring the white-noise." she waves a hand at the Decepticons. "Which is far easier then they would hope."
Jayson Redfield thinks it would be wise to stay away from the bleaches for now. So he just hangs back, away from the remaining competors. He's looking rather dejected.
Silverbolt chuckles and puts away his rifle....after replacing the electrical capacitor of course. he puts away his rifle behind his left shoulder. he then chuckles at Sheng. 'yeah. You kinda get used to it after a while, Sheng."
From Bleachers, "She's got something wrong with her brain," Blitzwing calls down helpfully to Raptor. "Makes her say stupid stuff and then not back it up. You might want Wheeljack to check that out... ooooh, too soon?"
Moonracer leaps up as her name is called and runs up to the start of the 'town'. "We have a special request from Grimlock!" She announces, bubbling. "He wants to see how I handle a big gun!" She winks to the crowd and waves before she produces an enormous sniper rifle.
She hoists it onto her shoulder and watches the targets move about for some time. After staring down the scope for long minutes she fires once. The shell fired lances towards an area where suddenly five hostile targets converge, it explodes at some point and it takes a while for the smoke to clear but she allready announces, "I'm done!" and runs back off.
Moonracer strikes Target 1 with Sniper Elephant Rifle.
Moonracer strikes Target 2 with pewpewpew.
From Bleachers, Raptor nods to sheng and lands down beside her. "I am glad-- How is everyone doing? I had to go check on something, and since I got kinda cancelled out early." He glances over at the decepticons. He did have something slung over his shoulder. "Why don't you cons hush ya'll traps huh-- I think maybe I'll try and speak your language and bring-- some stuff.."
The Autobot flier swings off what he has on his shoulder which is a large metal casket. He pushes it down slightly and if any con reconizes it, or any bot, its a high-grade canister and looks to be made of some high grade fuel of that, probably wasn't cheap. "Have fun."
Moonracer strikes Target 4 with pewpewpew.
Moonracer misses Target 5 with its pewpewpew attack.
<Decepticon> Crimson Dynamo! Thrust says, "Blitzwing... Fusillade... As an Ace pilot of Aerospace, I am requesting that you do no violate our truce with the Autobots. Instead gather intelligence."
<Decepticon> Grey Snapper, Fusillade says, "Like I was going to DO anything. There's no intelligence TO gather from these dolts."
<Decepticon> Scrapper suddenly bursts out laughing as Thrust orders Aerospace to gather intelligence.
Moonracer strikes Target 3 with pewpewpew.
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "I'm not in Aerospace, anyhow. I'm a tank!"
<Decepticon> Scrapper is still laughing.
<Decepticon> <:D Catechism says, "Thrust meant that he is in Aerospace, not that Fusillade and Blitzwing are in Aerospace. They aren't."
<Decepticon> Scrapper can be heard slapping his hands against his knees, still laughing.
<Decepticon> Crimson Dynamo! Thrust says, "Correct, Catechism. I am fuly aware of that. Aerospace has standards so hence why we don't have them."
Burt taps his foot. Clint finally just waves at him, giving him the universal 'keep it moving motion'. "Ok, Moonracer must be off doing one of them girly things that gi- oh, wait, here she is!" Burt stares in awe at Moonracer's giant gun (oh yeah) and the way that she handles it (that's right). She starts off as an obvious pro (you know it) and keeps rolling up until the end, where one target is missed. Three way tie for second. So far." Burt nods and calls up the next competitor, "The last chance them humies have, Clint. Nathan Briar."
See, no one cared about that bicycle repair man!
Nate shrugs, "Where is Sam Witwicky when you need him?" Yes, poor Sam has a new name!
Nate pulls the bolt on his sniper rifle to allow the previous magazine to fall out. He'll reload a fresh one in if he wins this round.
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "Oh, okay, I get it. Uh, yeah, Thrust, that's gonna be a negatory on the intelligence-gathering from these Autobots here."
Nate Briar misses Target 2 with his Galvcannon_666 attack.
Nate Briar strikes Target 1 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 3 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 4 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 5 with Galvcannon_666.
Assault Beast <Quickswitch> looks around, frantic through the sea of beings for the sight of gold and purple. Where's Impactor gone? Unrest as he swung his enormous head this way and that--oh, if they were only white noise to me. Quickswitch's optics flattened out and dimmed. He wanted badly to silence the incessant noise. He hated it. He hated all of this, actually, downright loathed it. A glance at Sheng, and a longer glance at the two Decepticons--and the thought interjected; No violence while the cameras were rolling. Right. There -was- no further reason to remain here, and the chaotic, confusing proceedings were at once dismissed. Quickswitch lept back up onto the railing, thrust out his wings and the assault beast took off. He rose a short and relative distance in the air before transforming to jet mode and blasting loudly away.
"Quick on the draw and quick with the accuracy. Odd order of attacking, but got the job done," Clint says. "You've just assured yourself a place in the second round there, son," he tells Nate. "All them people with 10 are also gonna make it unless either of our next two competitors beat that mark. Lets see, Outrun, if yew can do just that."
Vector WX3 <Outrun> is totally trilled by his performance so far, "You got to watch those terran movies to succeed here! They all riding strange beats at high speed when they're shooting at things. That's the secret" he tells around to know one in particularly. You don't change a winning tactics so when his name his called again, the autobot car launches fowards, many innocent targets are poping in the middle of the street this time so he climbs on the boardwalk. He blasts his first target before going back into the street, shooting a second and a third target standing on the roof of the building facing him. As he passes in front of a saloon like building, he shoots a Starscream target through a window, "That's what happen to all air commanders!" he shouts before blasting a Unicron target on the far end of the street.... can't miss that one...right?
Outrun strikes Target 1 with Side Lasers.
<Decepticon> Crimson Dynamo! Thrust says, "I am interested in this monster named Raptor. Where did he come? And why does he look like Dirge's aft?"
Outrun strikes Target 2 with Side Lasers.
Outrun misses Target 3 with his Side Lasers attack.
From Bleachers,
"You don't TELL me what to do, you knock-off. What're you held together with anyway, primer?" Fusillade snaps off to Raptor. "Nice to see you come when beckoned, like a good turbo-pup. And don't try to pass that bottom-shelf swill off on me," She pins the casket on the steps with one foot, before kicking out to send it sliiiiiiiding back up to the Autobot flier, an airy, exultant chuckle escaping her.
Outrun misses Target 4 with his Side Lasers attack.
Outrun misses Target 5 with his Side Lasers attack.
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "I dunno, but I've been seeing him around the Marshall Islands a lot whenever I overfly it."
<Decepticon> D-56 Ramjet says, "I want that mockery dead."
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "Might want to set up a listening station there just in case, Intelligence Officer Ace Thrust."
<Decepticon> Grey Snapper, Fusillade says, "I'd help but well Thrust seems to think I'm not up to Aerospace standards so I'm not too terribly sure I CAN perform that task, Ramjet."
"...guess we know now, huh Clint?" Burt asks. Eastwood just nods and tips his hat as a sign of respect for the effort, if not for the performance itself. He jots down a measly 3 for Outrun's score. Although he hit more often than Grimlock, he picked the wrong three to miss, and thus is in last place for round 2. "Last for this round, the creepy Con. Soundwave."
"SILENCE."
The crackling and distorted word seems to emit from all parts of the arena as Soundwave 'barks' out this order, possibly irritated by all the distractions. Or maybe he just likes telling other people what to do. The big blue Con strides back up to the line. shoulder cannon still humming ominously. Smugly, if you could call it that, he folds his arms across his chest and turns his head side to side.
The first target, a moving Quintesson, pops up and Soundwave fires. Then the next one, a baby in a carriage, quickly pops up, and again he fires. Two Galvatrons and a Sweepcub appear on the left side while simultaneously a crude picture of Blaster appears on the right. Two shots, both at the correct targets. For the fifth he receives 4 Galvatrons and the pair of humans from the Voyager space probe. The last bolt of energy from his shoulder cannon reaches out for the squishies.
<Decepticon> Crimson Dynamo! Thrust says, "What is he doing there on the islands, Blitzwing?"
Soundwave strikes Target 1 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
<Decepticon> Counterpunch says, "And I humbly suggest that Thrust does /not/ give up his day job."
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "Unspeakable things."
Soundwave strikes Target 2 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Silverbolt looks up. "Pass me a glass of that, Raptor."
Soundwave strikes Target 3 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
In a blurr of speed, Outrun zooms pass you and sticks a +nom on the back of your head. Good RP
Soundwave strikes Target 4 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave misses Target 5 with his Shoulder Cannon <low> attack.
Jayson Redfield whimpers a bit and slinks back as Soundwave speaks.
<Decepticon> Blitzwing says, "I'd tell you but I can't speak 'em. That's why they're unspeakable."
From Bleachers, Raptor just stares at Fusillade with a cold stare, "Actually my gears, servos, and nearly all programming is identical to the Seekers from the Great War era." He states as he places his jet boot fot on the barrel as it comes back. "Though as big has you are-- I'm surprise you can even fly, chika." He says with a sly grin, it-- nearly mimics a few of the dead seekers. That has to grind on some nerves...
From Bleachers, "See, you distracted yourself," Blitzwing calls down to Soundwave. "Gotta keep your eye on the ball."
From Bleachers, Ramjet leans forward from his chair. He speaks from up high, yet his words carry easily. Air Commander Projection, honest. "When this is over, Autobot," he tells Raptor. "I am going to find you and then I am going to kill you. That is the end of our conversation, scrap-pile." Ramjet leans back in his seat and looks briefly impassive, until Sunstorm finally returns with that oil. Now he looks more pleased to sip oil and watch Soundwave miss that last target.
Both alien cowboys are startled as Soundwave barks out his order. Clint manages to hide it by lowering his hat slightly in a badass way. He can do that because he's goddamn Clint Eastwood, as you all know by now. Both watch in awe as Soundwave blasts the Quintesson into itty bitty bits, and then obliterates the baby carriage (Clint gives an extra nod here), following up by nailing the Sweepcub (?!?!) and Blaster while not hitting either of the Galvatrons. The first, however, the human astronauts, foil Soundwave as one of the cut-out humans survive. Typical that it's the humans who tilt the balance enough to destroy the best laid plans of Decepticons.
Clint scribbles down Soundwave's score of 10 and then motions for everyone to approach to see the leader board/dirt pile:
Outrun: 3
Grimlock: 4
Focus: 8
Apocryphacius: 6
Aramasu Hikage: 10
Hot Spot: 10
Moonracer: 10
Soundwave: 10
Counterpunch: 12
Nate Briar: 13
Both alien cowboys are startled as Soundwave barks out his order. Clint manages to hide it by lowering his hat slightly in a badass way. He can do that because he's goddamn Clint Eastwood, as you all know by now. Both watch in awe as Soundwave blasts the Quintesson into itty bitty bits, and then obliterates the baby carriage (Clint gives an extra nod here), following up by nailing the Sweepcub (?!?!) and Blaster while not hitting either of the Galvatrons. The first, however, the human astronauts, foil Soundwave as one of the cut-out humans survive. Typical that it's the humans who tilt the balance enough to destroy the best laid plans of Decepticons.
Clint scribbles down Soundwave's score of 10 and then motions for everyone to approach to see the leader board/dirt pile:
Outrun: 3
Grimlock: 4
Focus: 8
Apocryphacius: 6
Aramasu Hikage: 10
Hot Spot: 10
Moonracer: 10
Soundwave: 10
Counterpunch: 12
Nate Briar: 13
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "oooo! Hot Spot's in Round 3!"
From Bleachers,
As Soundwave snarls, Fusillade stops talking on radio, but well, she was being directly addressed by the Autobot. As he tries to take a jab at her tonnage, she puckers at him, and sleeks hands over the swell of wingblades, leading down into her double-heeled thrusters. "Big? Oh HONEY I make this chassis WORK. You ain't gonna find THESE curves on no F-15. I've got size AND speed. I don't see you gettin' YOUR broke-aft skidplate out into orbit, and you SURE don't have the same kinda payload that I've got on up in THESE rotary carriages."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "unfortunately Counterpunch and Soundwave are still in too."
<Autobot> Quickswitch doesn't sounds the least bit interested, "You don't say."
From Bleachers, Raptor looks over to Ramjet and bows to him, "Then I look foreward to it, oh cone-headed one. Tell me-- do they make you with that cone on your head, or does it grow over time due to your stupidity." He laughs before getting Silverbolt and glass and handing it off to the Aerial-commander. Then he hovers in the air, with his arms crossed.
<Autobot> Hot Spot says, "Wow... ...I'm surprised I've made it this far..."
From Bleachers, "Somebody do something about that human!" yells Blitzwing. "Come on, Soundwave, you can do better than a human!"
From Bleachers,
"Eww, HYOO-man," Fusillade chimes in.
From Bleachers, Raptor and waves his index finger to Fusi, "And I am not no F-15, my dear-- much more high tech then that.." Yea-- He was a F-22
From Bleachers, Ramjet smirks. "Bowing is for /slave models/."
From Bleachers, Blitzwing asides to Fusillade, "He really doesn't, he's got these teensy tiny little missiles that he shoots out of his wrists or whatever." He holds up his fingers about yay far apart.
From Bleachers, Blitzwing adds, "All stunted, little baby missiles."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "heh. at least you made it past round one, Hot Spot."
From Bleachers,
"Who said I was talking about -you- when I said that part?" Fusillade shrinks from Raptor as if he was contagious. "I didn't realize you were the only plane the Autobots had." She watches Silverbolt sharply to see if he keels over from filter poisoning.
Burt announces the first competitor for Round 3, aka the last round of the event! "Bad news, Clint. The ninja somehow is still in the race. We can't hunt a medal winner, can we?" Clint just nods, "Sure we can, Burt. Just have to do it when they's ain't looking."
Silverbolt is too busy watching the contest to even realize Fusillade is speaking.
The stakes are higher this time in the medal round. Still nothing to fret about this is all for fun and maybe a bit of pride. After watching the other contestants and the average general location of the targets it becomes -almost- predictable in terms of general direction. Maybe this will allow to shave a few seconds off and still give a decent score. Hikage clears his mind of those considerations preferring to keep faith in his instincts and reflexes. First target is a Galvatron, second is a sweep of some sort, third is a Ramjet, fourth is Rumble and fifth is a moving chibi-Fusillade. Aramasu moves about the range with the grace of a feline, near absolute silence save for the whooshing sound of arrows flying towards the targets.
Aramasu Hikage misses Target 1 with his Flight arrow attack.
From Bleachers, Fusillade wasn't talking to the Concorde when she said F=15s, either.
From Bleachers, Raptor listens to the decepticons and shakes his head. "Ah, your all bunch of hot-air." He says as he waves his hand gently, before landing down and taking a seat, resting his arms on his knees. "And your curves-- arn't my style.." He says back to Fusillade in a very calm manner. Those Violet optics seem focused on what happens on the grounds.
Focus ahs softly. He gets up from the wall he's sitting against and makes his way up into the bleachers since he's out of the contest.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 2 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 3 with Flight arrow.
Aramasu Hikage misses Target 4 with his Flight arrow attack.
Aramasu Hikage strikes Target 5 with Flight arrow.
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "I hope they all gag--"
<EDC> Private Jayson Redfield sighs a bit. "Maybe I'll do better in the air race... My Talon's in good shape for it."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "The moment this idiotic event is finished--"
Silverbolt finally gets the cube of energon and drinks it. 'ah....now that's nice." He says softly
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "If it wasn't for the fact I was an autobot and if it wasn't for the fact I-- have some morals.. I swear to Primus..."
From Bleachers, Sheng leans back to rest her arms on teh railing above her, offering Raptor a head shake and smile when he offers her a cube, watching teh contest below.
Both cowboy aliens are holding their breath as Aramasu begins down through the town. Both want Aramasu to /fail/ and fail /badly/. Tough to tell if they got their wish, and Clint Eastwood scribbles the number 10 next to Hikage's name. "Startin' to hate that number, Burt." For his part, Burt calls up the next competitor. "That thar blue firefighter, Clint. Hot Spot. Lets see if he can't take the lead."
From Bleachers,
"Well of course they aren't, they're not LOSER style. You're made up completely of angles, yuck. Have fun with your VnI," Fusillade flashes a wicked teasing grin, and flounces back down a few seat levels.
<Autobot> Sheng says, "Wait until the Olypmics are over."
Hot Spot approaches the street, a silent nod to the 'judges' of the competition. It's all or nothing... ...this is it, the final round. Will the Protectobot Commander rise above and medal? Or will his nerves get the better of him? Only time will tell... ... Hot Spot stares forward, his red optics shine with ferrocity. He fiddles with the darts at his side... ...
Hot Spot strikes Target 1 with Throwing Dart!.
Hot Spot strikes Target 2 with Throwing Dart!.
Hot Spot strikes Target 3 with Throwing Dart!.
Hot Spot strikes Target 4 with Throwing Dart!.
Hot Spot misses Target 5 with its Throwing Dart! attack.
Apocryphacius hovers off into the sunset to find a horse with no name.
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "I'll try.."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "...The brand you have is freedom, to think and act and to ensure that freedom..."
"Really, really startin' to hate that number," Clint mutters, adding yet another 10 to the tally. "Neither of those two have a chance at gold without first going through a tie-breaker. But God willing, we won't have to worry about that." Burt nods his agreement and calls up the next competitor - the biggest crowd pleaser here. "Moonracer!"
From Bleachers, "Not nearly enough of us down there," grumbles Blitzwing. "Where're all our sharpshooters? Where's Shockwave? I know he's a guardian of an entire planet but he could take a break from answering the phones just for one night."
<Autobot> Sheng says, "This is not the time, nor the place for it. IF this truce is broken, let the cons be the ones to do so."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "You don't have to try, Raptor. They've probably hit you with 'inferior model' or 'bad design'.....or my favorite 'worthless piece of slag'. You're better of filtering them out, Raptor. They know only shoot first and ask questions later."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "The brand I wear is forced into my wings-- unlike the rest.. I can't even think of changing, because I always am.. though I am not complaining."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "Yea-- I'm kinda also guilty at that at times as well Silverbolt."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "..."
<Autobot> Hot Spot says, "Hey, the point of these games is peace. No Autobot will break that truce... ...you'll have to answer to me if you do!"
From Bleachers,
"Phhht, you shoulda gone down there then," Fusillade says to Blitzwing as she hops up on the railing and teeters on it tightrope style. "What have the other Trips been up to lately anyway?"
Moonracer squeals with excitement instantly, this time, as her name is called. Her laser pistol ready she goes running into town. This time she doesn't F about trying to get fancy with one shot, she runs into a saloon, and the muffled pew pews can be heard from within--
--Then the front window smashes as the autobot field agent comes bursting out in what seems like slow motion in her mind. She has a pistol in each hand for this maneuver, studiously drawing a bead, firing a shot towards the chest of, first the target on her left then the target on her right. She tucks her head in and lands rolling foreward in a somersault.
She stays low for a moment, then jumps past a moving and huge target: a woman with a bustle strolling gaily across the middle of the street, she lands on the other side and then fires at an evil looking cowboy coming out of the 'bank'. She giggles and blows imaginary smoke from the barrel of her gun and--
--Shrieks with surprise as a big scary many suddenly fold sup in front of her. She takes a deep breath and whirls on the target pumping both barrels into his chest before running back off the field. "Never sneak up on me in a dark alley, part-nuh."
Moonracer strikes Target 1 with Wild West Fancy Shootin'.
Moonracer strikes Target 2 with Wild West Fancy Shootin'.
Moonracer strikes Target 3 with Wild West Fancy Shootin'.
Moonracer strikes Target 4 with Wild West Fancy Shootin'.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "They won't need to Hot Spot. I'm the Commanding officer here. They answer to me if they break the truce......"
Moonracer strikes Target 5 with Wild West Fancy Shootin'.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "...I answer to Impactor."
From Bleachers, Blitzwing shrugs. "I dunno, I haven't even seen 'em. A-Train hardly ever comes around lately and I haven't seen Octane in a turbodog's age."
From Bleachers, Raptor cuts a glance over to Fusillade and narrows his optics slightly. He leans back slightly, "You know what you decepticons problems are? You guys ain't got no class. Your all a bunch of worthless slime with no reason for exsistance. All you know how to do is like at your commanders feet and clean his aft. I bet if he was gone, you all would fall apart like months to a flame-- trying to take one another out.. pitful brood you all are."
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "and Impactor...answers to ME, Quickswitch."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "I ain't gonna start no gun fighting-- but if they start it, I have the right to finish it."
<Autobot> Autobot 'Seeker' Raptor says, "But i don't have to pull my gun out to do it either.."
From Bleachers, "I think we just got told!" exclaims Blitzwing. "And Raptor should know, he's the expert on aft cleaning. He keeps his REAL clean. Sparkling, even. He's got a little helper to check on it for him."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Impactor told me to keep an optic out, but not to engage while the cameras were present.."
Alien Clint Eastwood has already written the digit '1' next to Moonracer's name as she takes to the field. But then... runs into the saloon? Burt glances at Clint in confusion, but the badass that is Eastwood just ignores him and continues to watch. Moonracer bursts out of thet window, annihilating her targets left right and centre. For the split second where she reaches the fifth and final target, Clint begins to write the digit '0' next to tbe '1', assuming that failure is a certain thing. But lo behold, the final evil cowboy from the bank is blown sky high, and Clint quickly rubs it out and replaces the '0' with a '5', maing a perfect score of 15. "Damn," is all he can say.
"Soundwave is up next," is all Burt can say.
Soundwave again takes his place at the line. This round, the targets appear quickly, flipping and twisting at random. So instead of his usual precise shoulder-cannon attacks, he takes a different track.
The Decepticon Communicator leaps into the air, high up, compacting down into his altmode. As the microcassette recorder falls (slowly for some reason) it emits pulses of sound that skitter and echo across the field.
- BOOM boom BOOM boom BOOM*
Each target in turn receives a massive pulse of sound. Anything struck explodes into shards of component materials. Otherwise, the ground shakes from the sonic energy.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "If you -must- know."
Soundwave spins, folds, and collapses down into an innocuous-looking microcassette recorder, a fraction of his former size.
Soundwave strikes Target 1 with Bad Vibrations.
Soundwave strikes Target 2 with Bad Vibrations.
From Bleachers,
"Racial profiling again," Fusillade juts out her chin proudly at Raptor, "Try a different tack. Although you're getting there. Keep practicing, I might feel a sting next time," she giggles. "And nah, not really Blitzwing I don't think we did." About Astrotrain, she says, "Well he was getting carried away with some of those energon concoctions. Think he's still cruising Andromeda on a buzz? Ha ha ha, I can see it now."
Soundwave strikes Target 3 with Bad Vibrations.
Soundwave strikes Target 4 with Bad Vibrations.
Soundwave strikes Target 5 with Bad Vibrations.
The innocuous-looking microcassette recorder rapidly unfolds and grows to immense proportions, becoming the Decepticon Communicator, Soundwave!
Soundwave lands on his feet in a crouch, then walks away from the line.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Then I'll be having a little talk with Impactor. In the meantime, you're NOT to engage while the truce is on, Quickswitch. Am I clear?"
Moonracer holds her head up as Soundwave strolls past. "Getting heated, is it?" She asks coolly.
From Bleachers, Raptor optics flicker red for a moment as they narrow to thin slits. Resisting any urdge to just zip off a missile in Blitzwing's direction. He would behave-- for the autobots sake.. he would behave. "Nice serve.." Is all he says as he looks away once again, and that solid black visor slides down to hide his optics.
"..." says Alien Clint Eastwood. "..." says Alien Burt Lancaster. "..." says Dave Gorman the Ick-Yak, who's currently being prodding past the set by one of his handlers. "So much for worrying about too many scores of 10," Clint says, clearly impressed. Those two have been the most impressive this time around in terms of style. "Counterpunch is due up next," Burt announces.
A faint frown creases Counterpunch's features as Nate Briar actually manages to outscore him by one point. And it didn't help that Soundwave only managed to tie with Aramasu, Hot Spot and Moonracer. He had hoped Soundwave would match his performance and remove Moonracer from contention entirely -- he was still a bit leery of her presence, and especially after a performance like that. And then Soundwave had to go and match it. But he could not let it get to him. Focus was key -- and no, he doesn't mean the Autobot.
He waits for the call to step forward, then does so slowly, optics dimming for a moment and then brightening again. He goes on instinct... targets pop up, and as the true targets appear, Counterpunch snaps up his weapon and fires -- the weapon, so far as he's concerned, is a natural extension of himself. One... two... three... four... five. And as that fifth target pops up and he fires, the DCI XO stops, slowly backing away to survey his handiwork before stepping back into line with the other medal contenders.
Soundwave stops and looks looks down at Moonracer. "Negative."
From Bleachers,
Fusillade POINTS like an Evil Monkey when Raptor clams up. "Oooh ooh he did the sun-visor thing!! Nyahaha." She turns to give Blitzwing knuckles. Something is terribly wrong with the universe, Astrotrain should be the one doing this.
.][.
Counterpunch strikes Target 1 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 2 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch strikes Target 3 with Electrostatic Disruptor.
Counterpunch misses Target 4 with his Electrostatic Disruptor attack.
Counterpunch misses Target 5 with his Electrostatic Disruptor attack.
From Bleachers, Blitzwing gives Fusillade a nudge and breaks into song. "Most people live on a lonely island, Lost in the middle of a foggy sea. Most people long for another island, One where they know they will like to be!"
<Decepticon> Geo munches on Energon Goodies.
<Decepticon> Geo munches on Energon Goodies. "Who is head?"
From Bleachers, Blitzwing belts it out as he gets to the chorus, "Bali Ha'i will whisper in the wind of the sea: 'Here am I, your special island! Come to me, come to me!'"
Moonracer becomes indignant, although on even casual inspection it seems more like she's flirting with Soundwave. "Well if you don't want it to..." She shrugs and sniffs at the air looking the other way from the 'con.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Impactor is wise. Impactor leads the Wreckers. He was the one who found me, and I will follow him. Impactor knows best for those under his command, and I request, sir, that you trust to it, too."
Both alien cowboys watch with anticipation as Counterpunch goes out and starts brilliantly, blasting the targets in quick succession. But as it turns out, that final two pop back down just a split second before being destroyed, and thus are safe from the counterspy's assault. Clint writes the number 6 next to Counterpunch's name, although his performance was better than the score suggests.
"Okee dokey! It is all up to Nay-than Briar, now. He scores above 10, he gits himself a medal! He makes it /under/ 10, then Hawt Spawt an' Aramasu move on and nothin' is decided yet."
From Bleachers, Fusillade opens her mouth, and closes it very quickly, looking confused. She has no idea what the words are. "I... err, lonely island, yeah. Heheh." She tilts her head when more of the bizarre lyrics pop out. Yeah, Astrotrain should totally be here right about now.
So for now, Nate's targets are randomly picked from IMDB.com and have sponsor tags on them. Amazing! His first target is Shiloh LaBeef Burger. That is followed by Whoopie Cushionberg. Soon enough, Hosey O'Donnel appears at a large size. The fourth target is SOUNDWAVE. Nate smirks and shoots it. Out of Soundwave's chest flies a Jayson Redfield zombie target! Nate aims to kill that one.
Nate Briar strikes Target 1 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 2 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 3 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 4 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 5 with Galvcannon_666.
From Bleachers, Blitzwing shoves an elderly alien and steals his cane, doing a little softshoe with it as he dances up the stands. "Your own special hopes, your own special dreams, bloom on the hillside and shine in the streams! If you try, you'll find me where the sky meets the sea!"
Nate Briar cracks his knuckles and walks off the field. He looks at Jayson and grins. "Not bad for a sniper, eh Sharpshooter?"
From Bleachers, Raptor watches Blitzwing in the corner of his visor, which yes, Blitzwing is reflected in, "..please-- no more, you sad comedy is killing me.." He says sarcasticly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand and then looks elsewhere.
Jayson Redfield just glares at not, then huffs and folds his arms, turning away. "Stop rubbing it in..."
From Bleachers, Blitzwing leaps off of the highest bleacher and grabs onto a lightpost, swinging down it in a spiral as he concludes, "Someday you'll see me floatin' in the sunshine, my head stickin' out from a low flyin' cloud, you'll hear me call you, singin' through the sunshine, sweet and clear as can be: 'Come to me, here am I, come to me!'" Blitz taps his way back across the tarmac to where he was at first. "If you try, you'll find me where the sky meets the sea! 'Here am I your special island! Come to me... come to meeeeeeee!'" He gives Raptor a knowing wink, tosses the cane over his shoulder and sits back down without explaining what that was all about.
From Bleachers,
"Can it, we'll sell it as ammo, haha. Anti-Autobot rounds!" Fusillade chimes in. "Hey Auturdbot! I'll drink some of that stuff if you test it first. Silverdolt may be too thick for any poison to work."
From Bleachers,
Stretched out under the bleachers is a Sweep. He appears to be sleeping.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "We were keepin an eye on that Quintesson...."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Apoc... something-or-other?"
<Autobot> Moonracer says, "...alypse NOW!? Charlies' in the trees! This is Space 'Nam all over again!?"
"That would be 'above' 10, Burt." Clint mutters. "Three-way tie, so we're going to have to do this once more." Eastwood does not approve. You should consider yourself lucky he has decided not to take his wrath out upon you. He scribbles the names down in the dirt and crosses off the names of those who are not advancing to the final (honest, this time) round of sharpshooting:
Counterpunch: 6
Aramasu Hikage: 10
Hot Spot: 10
Moonracer: 15
Soundwave: 15
Nate Briar: 15
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Apocryphacius?"
From Bleachers, Raptor looks at the stuff, "..I don't drink.." he says softly and shudders a tad at Blitzwing, and motions to him, "And he-- is wierd."
Grimlock moves to the Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens.
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Is that the Quintesson's name?"
Silverbolt claps for hot Spot. 'you did good, hot Spot."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Yeah, him. That's the EDC's resident Quintesson. The one Astracius apparently attempted to kidnap a short time ago. The EDC is fiercely protective of him."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Especially that Henshaw lad. His superior officer, I think was what I understood."
<Autobot> Quickswitch utters in clear distaste for it, "The humans can have their pet if they want it. Humans--harboring a quintesson?" *It didn't make sense to him and his baffled wariness showed.*
<Autobot> Red Alert says, "Apocryphacius is a friend to the EDC. He's fine, Quickswitch. I had a chat with General Witwicky about him."
From Bleachers,
"Well what fun are YOU then? Never trust a chemist that don't sample his own mixin', I always say!!" Fusillade objects. "Your attempts to gather information from us are going to go NOWHERE fast if you don't prove yourself. You kept bragging that you were OH SO MUCH luck a Seeker, well frickin' DRINK like one."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "I don't like this at all."
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Humans dumb!"
<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "Shut it, Grimlock."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "Sir, an answer, yes, sir. Understood."
<Autobot> Quickswitch says, "(OOC: *Understood, sir.)"
<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Me Grimlock say WHATEVER ME WANT."
Moonracer claps politely, shoots optical daggers at Soundwave and then sniffs while chuckling impolitely at Nate. She gets up to the line, pistols in hand.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "Thank you, Quickswitch."
From Bleachers, Raptor narrows his optics and looks down at it, then at Fusillade, then back down at it. "I'm also.. still an autobot. Though designed to deal with the Seekers-- my core is still partly an Autobot." And that is all he was gonna say on that manner.
He continues to stare down at it. "..if I drink this, you will as well?" He asks once more, cutting a glance at her.
From Bleachers, And yes, past that visor of his.
From Bleachers,
"If it doesn't blow, sure." Fusillade says. "Now what exactly is the base on this thing? We going to be working off some hexanes? Maybe a few BTEX compounds?"
"Who is going first?" Clint asks Burt, echoing Nate's OOC question. Burt looks at his parchment paper. He's been crossing off names also where applicable. There's only 3 people left, but he still figures it's a good idea to keep track anyway. "Nay-than Briar is up next in the gold, silver, /and/ bronze tie-breaker round!"
Silverbolt chuckles at Fusillade. "always worried someone is going to shoot you when you relax your guard....huh, Fusillade? Shame."
<Autobot> Intel XO Impulse says, "Okay, guys, let's cool our jets, okay? We're all friends here."
From Bleachers, Raptor pours himself a cup and looks at it. "I bought it from a bar tender, freshly brewed, watched him do it. However, I can't tell you one from another." He then pours another cup and walks over to her, handing it to her, before his visor slides up and he looks at her directly dead in the optics. "But if you want proof, so be it."
<Autobot> Saboteur Foxfire says, "Yeah!"
Nate always wanted a threeway to be a crucial part of his life. But those ideas didn't involve Soundwave and Moonracer. So Nate stretches and takes his time to take on his targets. Why? He knows he is guaranteed a hit. His targets are THE TOXIC AVENGER, Pop Eye, The Geico Caveman, Barney Rubble, and The Geico Gecko!
Nate Briar misses Target 3 with his Galvcannon_666 attack.
Nate Briar strikes Target 1 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 2 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 4 with Galvcannon_666.
Nate Briar strikes Target 5 with Galvcannon_666.
<Autobot> Silverbolt says, "I'm fine, Impulse. I'm just sick of Autobots shrugging off my orders.....especially when They're under my command."
"Twelve, huh?" Clint asks. "Haven't seen /that/ number in a while." It feels good to see something other than a 15 or a 10 get scored. Target number 3 has been nothing but a big pansy this match so far. "Up next is Soundwave. He beats a 12 then he's got himself a Silver medal fer certain!"
Soundwave once again approaches the firing line. This time the targets are fast. M-O-O-N that spells fast!
Mister Personality doesn't say a word. His cannon simply rotates rapidly side to side, firing five quick shots as the targets flip. Can he keep up and not accidentally shoot a fake Galvatron? Can he defeat at least the squishy human scum?! Let's find out!
Soundwave misses Target 1 with his Shoulder Cannon <low> attack.
Soundwave strikes Target 2 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave strikes Target 3 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
From Bleachers,
"Where do you get that nonsense, Silverbolt? I'm sitting here talking about vintages, and you're talking about me being afraid of getting shot? How... do you get this particular version of two plus two equals five, son? You need to do something about him," she murmurs over the edge of the glass to Raptor. She pauses for a moment as she sizes up the liquid. "It's a little THIN, someone cut it with ethanol," she says with disapproval as she takes another sip.
Soundwave strikes Target 4 with Shoulder Cannon <low>.
Soundwave misses Target 5 with his Shoulder Cannon <low> attack.
From Bleachers, Raptor takes a sip as Fussilade does, it-- really doesn't bother him, and if it does, he isn't showing it. Then again, he knows what happens if he drinks to much, so he has to pray to Primus the femme doesn't push him.
Then again, why was Raptor doing this? Perhaps to prove a point-- maybe to them, maybe to the other autobots.. or maybe just to himself.
The crowd groans as Soundwave misses the money-shot target. That elusive number 5 target! Oh how it has foiled people! "That's a 9 for the ladies mech Soundwave," Clint Eastwood says. "That means it's alllll up to the pretty lady in green. Beats a 12, then she stops bein' green and starts bein' golden."
Silverbolt chuckles lightly. "your comment on it exploding in your face. oh right....I forgot. Your mouth runs before you can process anything. I'm sorry." He says before shrugging.
From Bleachers,
The Sweep under the bleachers looks totally out of it, but he has his +bbnext
From Bleachers,
"I never said anything about this stuff exploding. Unless you mean the 'blow' comment," Fusillade corrects Silverbolt, lips pulled thin. "It's a term. You know, words, which have meanings. In this particular case, blow meaning that it is of exceptionally low quality. Which it isn't, which is why you are not wearing the rest of this container."
From Bleachers, Fusillade says, "So WHOSE mouth is runnin' before they process things?"
From Bleachers, Raptor didn't say a word, he just took another sip from the glass, his optics did flicker softly in thought. "..Perhaps after the event, I can take you over to where I got this, and you can tell the bartender how to correct it--" Motions to Thrust, "He can come along as well."
From Bleachers, Thrust is calmly watching Doctor Kill on his cracked diePod. He doesn't even notice that Raptor invited him along. He's quiet tonight... ODD!
Moonracer smiles when it's her turn. She's back down to one laser pistol as she strolls out into the deserted street. But it doesn't stay deserted for long, a thug leaps up to one side and she brings her off hand up to steady the gun, turns and fires, the shot goes wide, hitting a frying pan hanging from the balcony the target is on! It pings off and ricochets through where the 'thug' should be standing and then punches into the badguy standing next to him.
A family of 3 children strolls out of a butcher shop only to have a pair of miscreants leap out threateningly behind them. Moonracer takes careful aim, plucky lass that she is, and fires one right between the eyes of the first no-good-nik as the family 'woodenly' slides off to safety! Her next shot is aimed safely above the kids the dastardly fourth target is using as cover, it strikes a rack full of hanging, plucked chickens and sharp dangerous knifes sending them plunging towards the target.
Moonracer giggles and turns with dramatic slowness as the ultimate Boss Man, who also looks like Clint Eastwood, but without the eye stalks, slowly slides sideways out from a doorway and down the steps as dramatic music and whistling can be heard in the background. "Howdy Partner!" Moonracer greets, waving with her free hand as she whirls the cartridge in the 'laser' pistol spins the gun around her index finger and then fans the 'hammer' causing a hail of fire to rain down on the last one. "Nice ta meetcha!" She titters and spins around.
She slips a piece of paper to Alien Burt Lancaster, and makes the Cybertronian hand gesture for 'call me' then winks over to Clint and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear "Tell Clint to call me! Tee hee." And she strides over to the podium to await the final call.
Moonracer misses Target 1 with its pewpew! attack.
Moonracer strikes Target 2 with pewpew!.
Moonracer strikes Target 3 with pewpew!.
Moonracer strikes Target 4 with pewpew!.
Moonracer strikes Target 5 with pewpew!.
From Bleachers, Fusillade rolls the liquid around in her mouth, before swallowing with a tremendous gulp. "Hrn. Well it's just been cut, is all. Otherwise it's decent stuff. Good set of undertones at least." She peers expectantly at the Autobot, expecting him to match her drop for drop.
From Bleachers, Raptor and is matching her drop for drop, and yes-- he takes the same amount she does and-- so far, sticks his own, how long however, is hard to say. "I'm glad then-- since after all, we are on a /Truce/, I doubt highly I would poison someone while on it-- maybe off it.. might be another case."
From Bleachers,
The Sweep shifts restlessly under the bleachers. He's trying to get some rest, but hears everything.
Moonracer's last pose: Moonracer raises a finger thinking about correcting Shockwave, . o O (That's fe-MALE) but she just shakes her head and sighs whilst rolling her eyes, after all it only takes a fraction of a second for the giddy lightheadedness of supreme victory to overtake her once more. "It's okay Shockwave, you can shoot at me, anytime."
From Bleachers,
"Again with that racial profiling crap. That gold Autobot already ran the 'coward' line into the ground earlier this evening. And I wouldn't want to embarrass myself being seen with you being all sloppy," Fusillade raises her elbow and arm -- she almost looks ready to backhand him, although she's just slipping out of his grasp. "The only bad rep I'd be getting with drinking around is would be for hanging with a LIGHTWEIGHT." Would that barb be enough to spur him on at some later time? She doesn't seem too interested in his response, as she pours herself down the stairs, with a brief nod to eyestalk Clint and the winners of the event.
From Bleachers, Raptor watches her leave and rubs his forehead gently. Trying to hard? He asks himself and waves it off, "..Lightwieght huh.." He shakes his head and just heads out. He'll-- think this over a bit...
Raptor moves to the Six Lasers - Cheyne Barrens.