Ep 1.5 - (Nevada) Red Dust Road Blues - Open

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This was a bit like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, but then again, it wasn’t as if he had any better hopes, or clues, as to how to find any other Autobots planet-side. And that was if there were any Autobots planetside. With his luck, he’d run into Megatron and a couple of warships before he even found someone he could get directions fr—

There was something on the road.

Smoke plumed around his tires as he hit the brakes and tried his level best not to go spinning out of control. The idle thought of transforming had been just that – idle. He wasn’t about to risk being seen planet-side when he did know the first thing about said planet, or the locals! Or their attitudes. Or their guns. All of which left him fish-tailing down from somewhere near the 140 mph mark in a very small distance, leaving black welts on the road behind him, and cussing in ways that would have made Wildcard proud.

The low, jutting bottom lip of his front fender was practically kissing the road when he finally came to a stop. It tilted upward minutely as his forward momentum bled away. The local lifeform standing less than a breath from it was giving the Autobot-in-disguise a long, placid, entirely unintelligent look… but only until he stopped. When the front end tilted to a stop, it immediately took offense to this and butted a heavy head with equally heavy horns on it before cantering off.

Rook really had nothing he could say to that. In his list of things to achieve planet-side, getting told off by what a quick search told him was a sheep had been nowhere near the top.

“Oh, I hate this place already”, he told the vast emptiness. “Where the slag is everyone?”

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Rook shifted and settled low, waiting for the tire temps to normalize before he even considered heading on again, and then promptly froze when he picked up an EM field closing up on him from behind.

Conflicting instincts immediately rose up in him. Stand and fight. Take off. Pretend to be exactly what he was camouflaging as. He found his thoughts so scattered he almost wanted to whip around and confront the approaching stranger. That there was no aggression or ill intent was moot - it could just as easily have been a Decepticon enjoying the solitude of the road.

And after this long looking for them and the one lucky shot at having found one, what, am I going to sit here playing dead? Not a chance. Even finding a Con would have been better than being stuck in the middle of nowhere chasing dust and meeting surly sheep.

Rook rolled slightly forward, nosing towards the side of the road. It would have been unwise to stay in the middle of the road anyways, but he also wanted room, even if just the slightest hint of it, should things go down unpleasantly. After one last check to ensure, inasmuch as he could, that they were relatively alone, he rolled down a window, letting just enough of his own field show as good faith, and offered in a matching, calm fashion, "Don't mean to alarm you, but your ah, light's showing."

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Some part of Rook wanted to believe what the stranger had communicated. Some part, oh, it really did want to believe he was so lucky as to have, somehow, blundered into Autobot contact.

Most of him knew luck was a fickle, spiteful old hag that never gave you the time of day, let alone the breaks you needed. Nothing was guaranteed, nothing was ever to be taken for granted. Everything and everyone could be a trap.

Nonetheless, he had to provoke something here, either a good reaction or a bad fight. If he had to keep eating dust for who-knew-how-long trying to get another break. And he could be friendly; 'friendly' under tense circumstances tended to make others think you were less than clever, or less than ready, and either was good as far as Rook was concerned.

/.../Friend/.../ Directly, he added, "And every kind of glad to see you. I thought I'd be driving the roads of this planet until their sun froze over looking for any sort of contact." As if belatedly, he offered as well, "I'm Rook."

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No attack. Yet. Rook could, and was, grateful for the reprieve. He might actually have hit the jackpot after all.

As he transformed he turned halfway, so that when at last he stood up he only had to turn slightly to face Crossfire. Nice mech, easy-going it seemed. Rook busied himself brushing dirt as best he could off of himself, without achieving much in the matter of cleaning; the stuff had gotten everywhere he'd never wanted dust.

He smiled, and shrugged, both gestures meant to come across as slightly self-deprecating. They were more honest than one would think, too; Rook had never meant to end up in such an empty backwater of a place, looking for Autobots he wasn't even sure were around. "I wish I knew. I was looking for signs of life or, you know, at least a ride somewhere civilized. I thought the radio chatter from this planet sounded promising. I wasn't expecting it all to come from knee-high mammals, and I sure was about ready to lose all hope of finding someone my height, or thereabouts."

Everything in the mech facing him said that Crossfire was exactly who he was presenting himself to be. As to why he was out here in the middle of nowhere, well... Rook was only hoping the poor mech wasn't as lost as he was. That would just be the perfect wrap to the situation, they found each other but not the rest of the Autobots. If there were any about.

He relaxed, partially, his field. Just enough for their immediate area, but long habit made it hard to do anything else. He was wary, but hiding that would have probably been as bad as a lie. He had nothing against Crossfire, and appreciated the amicable attitude the Ferrari had offered him, so far. His field was as honest as he could make it, and as friendly as he could make himself, as he offered a hand in the local fashion. "Pleasure to meet you, Crossfire."