Ep. 1 [AR] - Attack the Block! - Closed

[Deleted]

[This is for Moonshot, but anybody else feel free to jump in if you want <3]

It was no secret that a certain frontliner on base had an affinity for loud music, especially the kind with heavy bass. And so, logically, the conclusion might have been to assume that the frontliner was like a shark honing in on a wounded seal pup when it came to detecting the very faint thumps that patterned out into the beat of music.

And detect Halocene did.

In getting a much-needed cube, the femme paused, mid-sip, and tilted her helm -- no, there was no mistaking it, somebody was playing music.

Sidling out into the hallway, the large femme determined the direction, and began descending down to the base's habitation floor with a fond drink of energon.

The more Halocene walked, the louder the music got, and by the time she was in the same hallway, a giant grin was pasted across her face; whoever it was had awesome taste. Just off a work shift, the frontliner had been looking for something to do, aside from bothering that little smart-aft minibot, so this seemed like an appropriate distraction.

Ahead on the right, there was an open door that seemed to be the source of the noise, and so the femme bee-lined for it. Swinging into frame, radio whips wobbling crazily behind her, Halocene leaned casually in the entrance, nodding her head in time with the heavy beat flooding out from the overheads in the room. There was a slender, scout-type bot plainly visible, so the huge femme sent a friendly ping their way, doubting she would be heard over the cacophony:

"Sick beats, you got subs to go with those?" She pointed with her cube-laden servo to the ceiling speakers before bringing it to her mouth again.

[Deleted]

Earth might’ve been a two-bit backwater with no culture and no tech worth mentioning, but frag, the place had some good tunes.

Three days after arriving on base Shot was finally starting to feel at home in the space assigned to her. Paint cans and dataslates had conspired to take over her cobbled-together desk, all but crowding out the small mountain of ammo containers deposited during her first hours on-base. The room’s bare metal walls hadn’t fared much better. There must’ve been three dozen different sketches magnetized to the walls, each depicting some scene potentially worthy of full-scale color reproduction. More doodles lay piled in heaps atop every flat surface not devoted to guns- and oh, there were a lot of guns, everything from assault rifles to pistols and SMGs scattered hither and yon.

All in all Moonshot’s domain looked like the unholy spawn of a gunsmith’s shop and an artist’s studio, provided you ignored the big-aft speakers currently dominating center stage.

Once upon a time some bright spark had gotten the brilliant idea to outfit the rec-room with a state-of-the-art sound system. It’d been one of the first things Shot had seen upon arrival- and it’d lasted all of an hour or two after she set sights on it. It had been the work of an hour to disassemble the entire rig, the internal workings of which now lay strewn across the floor in meticulous rows. Various wires and amplifiers had already vanished into the Frankenstein creation perched in Shot’s lap. Said creation was apparently in working order already- it blared techno from hidden speakers, openly and gleefully defying human sound ordinances.

Hunched as she was over something that could reasonably be termed a sound-bomb, Shot never heard Halocene’s (semi)stealthy approach. The frontliner’s ping made her jump, casually-ruffled armor clamping tight to her protomass. The next instant she was on her feet and scowling as only a Seeker could, rip-roaring ready to light into whoever had invaded her domain.

She would’ve done it, too, if Halocene had been even slightly less enormous. As it was Shot just boggled at her, jaw slack and wings drooping.

“Oh. Uh- hi. Don’t think I’ve met you yet. You are who?”

[Deleted]

Far be it from her to judge anybody, but Halocene had seen Earth birds react the same way that the little aerial bot did now, obviously rustled at her sudden appearance. Mouth bowing in a slight frown, the femme looked down at her chassis; was she that hard to miss? She supposed the sheer amount of noise had something to do with it, but the last time she'd checked, screaming yellow was high on the list of colors that made bots double-take.

Ah, well, couldn't blame the little Seeker for it.

Visor turning up again, Halocene was interested to note the look of absolute stupefaction that was being beamed her way. A good-natured chortle preceded her name.

"Halocene. Don't worry your head over it. Where'd y -- oh, whoa," the femme interrupted herself and took a few steps into Moonshot's quarters, optics scanning the walls from behind her visor with nothing short of wonder. They were just plastered with drawings, presumably done by the Seeker, if mounting evidence was to be believed.

"That's really somethin', you do all this?" She asked over the pounding of the music, which she had forgotten about for the moment. Taking another swig of her energon, Halocene rounded on the smaller bot and grinned shamelessly. It did not occur to her that Moonshot might have found her intrusion particularly irksome, but then again, it usually didn't occur to her that most bots found her very presence intrusive.

"Who're you, then? Sorry I just wandered in, but, I mean, you might as well have just paged me here." She shrugged her massive shoulders in what might have been labeled as slightly apologetic, pointing one thick finger to the thumping speakers again. Loud music was her thing.

[Deleted]

While Halocene stood there pondering Shot’s cognitive abilities, Shot herself did... pretty much the same thing. Seriously, big-aft femme. Optic-searing yellow stripes. Close to thirty feet tall. Sure, she’d been distracted, but Primus on a piston, how scatterbrained could you get? If Halocene had meant her any harm she’d be deader than a doornail, and with no one to blame but herself.

But she hadn’t, no blame was needed, and- oh Primus help her the big lunk was cooing over drawings. Why this.

“Oh, those?” She crossed to join Halocene in peering at doodles, wings flick-twitching in a comical mix of discomfort and smug professional pride. No artist liked having their work examined before it was done, but some recognition of skill was... unexpectedly nice. Perks of having company, people actually took the time to plump up your ego. “Yeah. Wanted to rough out some ideas before I forgot ‘em. The walls were looking a little too bare for my tastes. Haven’t quite decided what I want to cover ‘em with just yet, though.”

She had plenty of ideas, at least. The thumbnails fanned out before them ran the gamut from jagged peaks to serene forests and glistening spires studded with pinprick lights, eerily reminiscent of towers cast down eons before. A few were pure fantasy, a Seeker’s playground woven of nimbus clouds and jagged lightning. Judging by the charcoal construction lines scratched across the walls, she was leaning towards the latter. Soon enough the room would look like the eye of a storm, but for now it just looked... well, kind of shabby.

Rather like the femme who occupied it, really.

“-oh, right.” Shot waved a hand at The Noisemaker, dulling if not eliminating the steady stream of happy hardcore blaring in the background. “Er- I’m Moonshot. Just got here a couple of days ago. I, uh.” Didn’t feel comfortable leaving my cave, was afraid of running into somebot like you in a dark corner, hate introductions- “Well. Haven’t exactly made the rounds just yet.” A beat, then- “It’s great to meet you, though!”

...even if Black and Yellah had invaded her space. There would be Words Had about that at some point. Later, though. Best not to completely torque off the mecha she’d be spending the foreseeable future working with.

“Halocene, huh? I don’t think I’ve heard of you before.” No surprise there- she had a knack for missing all but the biggest of big names. “What do you do around here?”

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"Moonshot, right." Halocene repeated with an amiable smile. Rounded helm upturning again, she let her optics rise and fall with the lines of the drawings. Sometimes elegant, sometimes hard, sometimes a color that ushered a painful memory forward like a blade through her processor. Her mind began putting together entirely random lines into familiar shapes that formed there the Hall of Heroes, or the three moons, or even the Celestial Spires.

A soft, slow hissing of warm air left the femme, and she stilled entirely.

"Looks like home." She commented in a soft tone before turning a full-powered grin on Moonshot once more.

"Not surprising, I'm just a security bot. Mostly sittin' around in front of monitors right now." Halocene informed the little Seeker. It was obvious, and Halocene knew it, that she had not been made for a passive security position, but it had yet to be commented on.

"I can take you around and show you everything later on, if you like. I'm thinking you should set up some strobes up high, have a total rave pad." And there was the crooked smirk again as Halocene looked around, nodding in speculative approval. It was obvious the Aerial bot was the nervous type, so the frontliner decided to retreat a little, taking a few steps to lean against the wall nearest the door, wide shoulders pressing back against it while she crossed her pedes in front of her.

"You met Air Raid? He'd probably talk your ear off, I think he's lonely without any other fliers around."

[Deleted]

Home. Shot heard the word and promptly looked away, field and body language alike shutting off like a slammed door. Nope. She wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole. Too much dust to brush off too many bad memories, especially when her day was going so well thus far.

“Oh Primus, you work security?” Shot’s shudder was part acting, part genuine revulsion. She disliked tasks requiring stillness on principal, but reserved a special loathing for monitor duty. Ninety-nine percent of the time monitor shifts ended without incident, but that lone, lonely one percent haunted her. What if the ‘Cons invaded? What if the impossible came to pass and Red missed something vital? How many mecha would they lose before word got out? “How’d you get suckered into that job? Shouldn’t Red have that under control? I mean, the mech never recharges, you gotta get bored.”

...of course, in the wonderful world of Moonshot ‘bored monitor-mecha’ meant ‘late-night visits and illicit board games’. It was just a matter of time before she wound up stalking the base after lights out. Maybe, just maybe, this big lumbering frontliner might be up for some dice after dark next time recharge proved elusive.

The mention of a ‘rave pad’ drew Shot’s gaze off her desk and right back to Halocene. Big honking femme, shoulders broad as a landing pad... she’d make a fine ladder, especially if she was willing to actually stand still.

“I’d appreciate the tour, actually. Red gave me an overview, but...” She made a helpless sort of flopping gesture with both hands. Everyone knew about Red and his propensity for highlighting base security rather than amenities. “Workin’ on cobbling together a real sound system- I can work on lights once that’s installed. Anyplace ‘round here insulated enough for real music? Clearly my room isn’t.”

And then came The Inevitable Air Raid Discussion. The mere mention of the chatty white jet made her roll her optics hard enough to practically dislocate them, disdain leaden in her field.

“Met.” She snorted, feathery helm-crests shaking with the force of her derision. “That’s one word for it. He pulled me out of the ice in Nepal. Think he thought that meant I’d fall all over him. You can just guess how that went over.”

[Deleted]

The shift was so abrupt and jarring -- for someone who had herself so open all the time --, the recoil came as a physical blow to Halocene, the shockwaves of suddenly nothing rippled through her own field, punctuated by a visible flinch from the frontliner as her own field drew back, reactive.

A moment, a brandished 'you idiot' at herself, and the warmth returned, the big femme's EMF flaring out slowly, filled with nothing but apology. She had forgotten that the mere memory of their once-home often caused pain for others. Dealing with the loss of something so dear...

Glad when the subject shifted, Halocene's grin returned in the form of a secretive smirk.

"Yeah, but with so many bots popping up now, he's gotta' start assigning jobs. I do maintenance when it needs doin', but mostly I'm just a chair slug. Bored is a relative term, I keep busy, heh." 'Busy' meaning 'I break at least three of Red's rules per shift'. She had never been good at hiding her emotions, but the tendril of sharp disdain that lanced through her field was quickly withdrawn nanoseconds later. The side of her that loved activity, loved to be part of everything -- the frontliner programming --, abhorred the task, no two ways around it, but she was happy to do something, no matter how sedentary it made her.

At least, that was what she kept telling herself.

The grin that had slipped again -- really, Halocene's mouth was a vast field of mood exhibitors -- returned in full force at the mention of a tour, and she finished the last of her cube gleefully, gesturing with an excited wave of one hand for Moonshot to follow her as she turned and sauntered out the door.

In the hall, the lighting was a little dimmer to conserve energy, but it was more than enough to see by. She continued the conversation as she began her usual pace, which classified under 'remarkably slow' for someone with such long legs.

"Insulation? That'll be storage, but good luck getting any sort of permission to do anything but store stuff in there," she hummed, voice waxing conspiratorial, "buuuut, a bot who was looking to test a sound system might find that particular hallway completely deserted at around 01300 hours, so if somebot were to, ya' know, sneak into storage, that'd be the time to do it." The crooked grin returned with a vengeance, and she said nothing more on the subject.

"He's an sweet kid, but he can be...overzealous." Halocene chuckled, the sound rich and low.

"You're lucky, you're not too far from the energon dispensary. Check it out." The frontliner cut across the hall and made a beeline for the largest door, which slid open upon her approach. There was nobody there, and she briefly debated mustering up another cube.

"Get a cube, if you like," she invited, gesturing for Moonshot to follow her into the expansive room, "we keep tryin' to get fun stuff in here, like a vidscreen, or a sound system, but apparently 'it's not a rec room, it's a refueling station'." She air-quoted, something she'd picked up from watching way too much earth television in the last few weeks.

The quote had been supplied by Red Alert.

[Deleted]

Not for the first time Moonshot found herself wondering just what she’d gotten herself into. Autobots the universe over were chatterboxes and gossip hounds par excellence. She... wasn’t. No, seriously, Shot was terrible at that slag. She’d slogged through a dozen posts under a hundred commanding officers, and she’d still never picked up the knack for small-talk. What was the point in sitting around exchanging pleasantries when there were skies to be explored, Cons to spy on, carbon-based lifeforms to terrorize? It just wasn’t her thing, and holy slag, did that ever shine through bright and clear. Half of poor Halocene’s chatter was met with a vaguely-bemused look and absent nodding. Yeah, Red Alert, cool, awesome-

-Wait, Air Raid?

“Overzealous, huh? Not the word I would’ve chosen for it..” Shot’s tone fairly dripped derision, all sharp edges and acid impatience. Sure, Air Raid was sweet. Sweet like the oily sludge left over in a cube of high-grade the morning after a rager. Not the kind of sweet she wanted anywhere near her dentae. Or her person in general, come right to it. His particular brand of saccharine superiority was best left as far from her as possible.

Africa, maybe. Or the Antarctic. Or, better yet, deep space!

That kind of distance was a pipe dream, though. There weren’t many aerialists on the Autobot side of things- certainly not enough to make splitting up a pair of them feasible on grounds of ‘I don’t like them.’ Later, maybe, once more ‘bots got their sorry afts all the way to Earth. For now Shot was just... stuck with him.

Primus willing and the sun don’t supernova, she wouldn’t have to put a round between his optics before then.

Halocene’s mention of energon distracted Shot from all thoughts of bloody reprisal. Wings hitched high, she trotted off in the direction of the dispenser, talons ratta-tat-tatting across the stone floor. “Not a rec-room, huh? Looks like one to me. People gather here, right? And hang out?” All at once she reversed direction, back-stepping towards the dispenser whilst waving both hands in the enormo-femme’s direction. “That makes it a rec-room.”

Around she spun again, snatching greedily for an empty cube unlucky enough to sit within snagging range. “Besides, I’m putting sound slag in here. So it’s a rec-room, and Red can suck my ailerons.”