We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
The explosion in C-2 had destroyed two of the standard Eradicons and critically injured two officer mechs, meaning that Knockout was stuck in the repair bay despite Megatron's order to get to what was left of Serotype's lab. Strongly suspecting that Starscream was involved in this, and with no desire to involve Shockwave, the list of Decepticons qualified to deal with a chemical spill was quite short, and it was with a curt command that boiled down to 'Get here now and fix this' that the warlord summoned Acid Storm.
He hadn't spoken to the mech directly before, the Seeker maintaining a low profile through neither excelling nor scrapping up spectacularly during his vorns of service to the cause. Megatron stood outside the containment barrier with folded arms and an EM field as violent as his worst atrocities. This was not what he'd needed today, and it would be nothing short of a miracle if no one else got terminated over it.
Last Edit: Dec 27, 2011 19:40:29 GMT -5 by Deleted
He knew it was coming sooner or later, after that moody femme blew up the lab it was only a matter of time before someone called in her fellow researcher to clean up the mess. Today had not been a good day for Acid Storm, but as much as he would love to drag his feet all the way to the lab area, it was normally not a bright idea to keep Megatron waiting, it gave him time to warm up that infamous cannon of his and decide just where he was going to aim. So the scientist moved at a fair pace, sliding right in beside Megatron, who seemed to be just a tad more agitated then he would be if Prime walked down the hallway and gave the warlord a friendly wave. Acid Storm slowly glanced around his commander to get a look through the containment field to see just what it was he would have to be dealing with...it wasn't pretty to say the least.
"You asked for me, Lord Megaton?"
Acid Storm's voice hit the silent hallway, sounding very smooth, almost fluid, though the overwhelming tone of disinterest in his orders managed to bleed through easily enough. Then again, he wasn't an actor by any means and didn't try to be such, that was for bots like Starscream, Acid Storm didn't have the time for that brand of foolishness.
Last Edit: Dec 18, 2011 16:38:41 GMT -5 by acidstorm
Megatron graced the small mech with a sidelong glance, his response cusping on a growl as he gestured with one sweeping hand to the lab. "There are unknown hazardous chemicals saturating the debris that Serotype saw fit to reduce her laboratory to. You are one of the few qualified to neutralise the dangers so that a clean-up crew can begin their work."
Acid Storm knew it was coming, heck a processor-dead drone knew that this would be coming, but that made his task no less enjoyable. Carefully the Seeker craned his neck joint up, looking right at his leader for just a moment, he showed no fear, but what drone the flier was clearly not bravery, in the end he just didn't have the drive to be either frightened or assertive in the presence of his master.
"As you wish..."
With that Acid Storm turned his optics away from the tower of death that stood before him, the mech then began to move forwards, into the room where not many bots would care tread. The mech paused for just a moment, scanning the state of things to make sure his chassi would be just fine if he went into the heart of the problem. After processing a little data on the substances his scanners could detect, Acid Storm pushed passed the barrier. Once inside it was a rather simple process to study the sot of slag that the traitor had unleashed before thumbing through a few desks for the proper alkaline base that would render a few parts of this demonic soup harmless.
Turning his back on the scene of destruction and the scientist being the laborious task of picking through it, Megatron considered the state of the corridor running alongside the lab. Several support struts had been damaged, and the bulkhead was warped. Though the structural integrity of the ship wasn't in any danger, Megatron found it aesthetically displeasing to his already agitated mood.
Working from little more than an urge to hit something solid, the warlord began to silently manipulate and beat the first strut back into something close to its normal shape. Two Eradicons ducked in to begin welding once he'd set it back agains the bulkhead, though the Commander did not look to acknowledge them - only moved on to crash fist and blade into the next.
Acid Storm used some of the surviving chemicals to begin neutralizing the lab, trying to make it safer for the drones to come in and do the work instead of forcing it onto the Seeker. The mech wasn't built for this kind of grunt duty, he longed for the days he could spend hours in a nice warm lab, tinkering with a computer virus or even improving his instant rust formula. But that was just a pipe-dream at this point.
He only looked up when he heard some muffled banging, pausing in his work Acid Storm moved over to the door of the lab so that he could peek into the hallway. He was a bit surprised in seeing Megatron actively help repair something, in fact the Decepticon leader had channeled his rage into something constructive. It was almost a creepy sight to behold, but Acid Storm didn't dwell on it for long before stepping away from the door and going back into the hazard zone for more clean up.
“Soooo,” drawled a deep growly voice from the corridor just outside the hazard zone of the lab, “Serotype poisoned the frag out of Hoff and left him to die and now there’s hole in your ship.” Barricade appeared from the warlord's peripheral, leaned up against a nearby wall. The infiltrator ignored the scent of char, sulfur, and cleaning chemicals. “Good day, then."
Barricade didn’t have an overabundance of fuzzy feeling about the ties that bound the aligned to one another but he did believe that Megatron’s poor mood was getting to him because he’d been feeling perfectly murderous all day long for generally no appreciable reason. Than again, he was likely to feel murderous for no good reason quite a lot and he did have good reason today. Oodles of reasons. A good portion of the Vehicon flyers were in medbay, having been in the corridors outside the lab when it blew. More of the grounder-pounder troops were stuck doing repairs, Steve and his crew, meaning that the lieutenant’s debriefs for the coming assault were put on hold until this fragging mess got sorted.
So – keeping busy. “I pulled Hoff’s open-channel distress signal from Soundwave’s logs and ran a trace through the Nemesis geo-locator. Knockout’s on site but no one’s going near the mech because she bombed him with some kind of chemical and no one knows what it is. Oxidized blue, alkali in Hoff’s armor turned the stuff green on contact. Think its inhibiting hydraulic feeds. Knockout can take a mech to peices, but chemical and bio-warfare aren’t his thing.” A pause. “And I think he doesn’t want to get it on his paintjob. Hard to tell. Need something to neutralize the stuff. Also, orders regarding Serotype?”
AKA: Can I kill her?
Last Edit: Dec 27, 2011 19:23:15 GMT -5 by Deleted
Megatron didn't flicker a glance to the infiltrator, though he did cease manipulating the support beam back into shape with his bare hands. He tone was far too neutral to be normal. "Find her, hack off her hands, feed them to her, then bring what's left back to me."
And then he silently slammed his fist back into the beam he'd just finished straightening, leaving it even more warped than it had been before. He continued not to look at Barricade, or anyone else for that matter. But mostly Barricade.
His spark was still adjusting to having a facet of it amputated, a thick knot of discomfort in his chassis that had slowly dwindled down from real pain. The procedure had worked to block off the gestalt-bond with the Autobot Scout, however, a procedure which only Barricade and Fairwinds knew about. It had brought about other, complications in his spark, however, which was why he was still not looking at Barricade.
And there was a hole in his fragging ship from a defector who'd made a mess more than anything. Serotype certainly picked her moments.
“Right then” said Barricade loudly, as though changing the subject, but mostly getting the warlord’s attention as it was wont to wander when he was in a homicidal rage and given his activities in the last 24 hours, their lord and master was likely a touch more ‘I-will-rip-your-face-off’ than normal.
“I’ll handle her if she’s not too far gone and Phantom-prep work doesn't lag to far, but we need to get Hoff out of the desert first before MECH, NASA, or whoever-the-frag show up to drag Decepticon technology out of there. Or the Autobots. Apparently they are adopting lost Decepticons like turbopuppies now… but seriously Knockout needs a cleaning solution. You worked the Cybonic Plague trials. We have something to nix this stuff or someone to nix this stuff? And, no, I would ask Shockwave but he’s busying being psychotic so I left him to it. Any alternatives?”
Last Edit: Dec 27, 2011 20:03:52 GMT -5 by Deleted
"Fetch the Eradicon," Megatron uttered blandly, optics shifting to some indistinct point just to the lower right of the wrecked beam. "Take Acid Storm with you. I'll see what I can do with the cleansing solutions I used whilst formulating the plagues."
The Seeker paused for a moment in his cleaning effort, had he been human he would have taken this time to wipe the sweat from his brow. Instead he found himself eying some sort of airborne acidic mist that was beginning to collect on his outer shell. It of course had no real affect on the bot, but it was beginning to itch a little, on top of that if he left it he could become a walking hazard to any Cybertronian...more then he normally was that is. The winged mech gave a small sigh at that, having the distinct feeling that this would take a few days to finish.
When he glanced over at the door he noticed that Megatron was having a bit of a heated conversation with the always annoying Barricade. Acid Storm knew this was trouble, nothing good ever came from either of these bots and together the affects could be measured in the craters their meetings left behind. The Seeker watched them for a time, placing a hand down on a near by desk to lean against it.
Barricade shot a look over his right wheel-mount to the Seeker. Acid Storm. Cade arched a brow ridge up at Megatron. He was pretty sure that guy hated him but then again, Ciddy pretty much loathed everyone, even other Seekers so his being included in the hated total was hardly irregular. Barricade liked him just because of his perpetual loathing for his own frame-type and fly-mates who were – on the whole – fragging unbearable company. That wasn’t to say that Stormy was just stacks more fun to be around, but he at least didn’t trumpet about his masterful perfection down your fragging audio receptors. He just kind of scowled and skulked and stunk slightly of chemical cleaner all the time while his fellows ignored him.
He gave a lazy salute and pushed off the wall. “Aye-Aye. The flyer units are down right now. I’ll make this priority until they are ready for mission-prep again.” He looked over at Acid Storm. “Oi, Ciddy. Get over here; I need you to clean up a giant goo mess so Knockout will stop flouncing around like a prat. Thanks.”
Over Barricade's shoulder, Megatron fixed his optics on the flyer with a stern, borderline murderous expression. He knew perfectly well of Acid Storm's personality glitch and had little patience for it. Right now, that little had withered and died, and he communicated as much in a look as he parted his lips fractionally to expose the tips of his fangs. Obey,[i/i] the look said, or the remaining pittance of your existence will be spent in suffering beyond what you can imagine. I promise.
Without a glance even to the back of Barricade's helm, Megatron turned in a stoop to duck under the dropped and twisted beams and stalked up the corridor. Behind him, the repair crew continued to work with their optics fixed studiously on the deck plates.
Watching and listening, Acid Storm only caught a little bit of what the two mechs were jabbering on about, but it was fairly easy to see where it was all going. Soon enough he was proved right when Barricade shouted for the Seeker to get moving. This was followed by a stern glare from Megatron, which felt more insulting then Barricade's habit of shortening the scientist's name at every chance he got. The flier had half a mind to put his paws on his hips and raise an eyebrow in annoyance, after all he would get infinitely more rest after Megatron had torn out his spark and crushed it underfoot. Acid Storm knew he wasn't the best fighter or the quickest thinker, but he always followed orders and only failed when there was no way to complete them. He didn't expect to get any respect or loyalty because of this little fact, but the Seeker felt like he was due just a little for all his years of apathetic service.
With a expulsion of air that mimicked a human sigh the mech began to moved for the wall of the force-field that was keeping the toxins at bay. He had half a mind of leaving himself contaminated and then shaking Barricade's hand just to see it begin to melt away. But Acid Storm lacked the drive for that level of spite and so just took his time as he moved into the decontamination shower to get himself all nice and clean.
After a quick rinse the Decepticon joined the other two mechs in the hallway, hunching his shoulder joints a bit as he stared over at them with tired optics.
"Well, let's not leave the peacock waiting..."
Last Edit: Dec 29, 2011 0:33:07 GMT -5 by acidstorm
Barricade waited until Megatron’s murderous seethe of electromagnetics was gone from the hall, leveling the area with that sledge hammer EM field of his. Tapping a claw against his hip, he watched the warlord round the bend before looking at Acid Storm’s sullen facial plates; the Seeker looked (as fragging usual) miserable and as put upon as a long-suffering Decepticon could look. The Saleen might have found his attitude pathetic if it weren’t for the fact the Seeker was under the direct command of Air Commander Screech Your Face Off and such a position had likely sapped the mech of his will and ability to give a flying frag.
“You know how Knockout enjoys complaining,” said Barricade, eyeing the corner Megatron has taken as though the mech might come back to punch more holes in his ship. Their lord and commander was… tense. That always boded well. Barricade leveled a look at the Seeker. “Do you need any supplies to eliminate the chemical she used on Hoff or are you familiar with the weapon she used?”