[ti]Ep 2[/ti]Shot of Indigo (Closed)
Jan 15, 2017 2:51:39 GMT -5
Post by Pyrotech on Jan 15, 2017 2:51:39 GMT -5
Location: The Dalles, Oregon
Week 4 - Day 1.
Long green stalks of grass shuffled and then bowed against the wind. Tiny purple flowers flickered and fluttered, lifted by the breeze. There was a dirt path that led up to an ancient wooden shack. It had been abandoned for a long, long time, the boards grey and weathered. Some had peeled away from the boards they were nailed to and, and the planks lay rotting. The door had long ago fallen off the iron hinges; the frame held rusty memories of their ability to open and close.
An old truck rested nearby, next to a sagging fence. The vehicle's tires had long crumbled into grey powder. The engine had been stripped decades ago, the hood thrown to one side. Everything was a red shade, the same color as the Sea of Rust. Grass grew up into the holes in the fenders. A tiny garter snake that was no more than a pencil with bright, beady eyes rested along the edge; soaking up as much heat as it possibly could.
It was an overcast evening. The sky was trailed grey, and only a few stray stripes of blue peeked through the clouds. There was an overall softness to the light that said that the sun would be setting soon, even it couldn't be seen.
Pyrotech was standing on the top of the ridge. The gleaming red mech didn't seem to be bothered that he was out in the open. Really, he wasn't. The humans didn't come out to this area much at this time of day. In the morning and afternoon, yes, they wandered here and there taking quaint pictures of old abandoned houses; sagging wrecks that his architectural mind hated with a passion. Inferior builds, inferior materials. Like so much on this backwards, ugly little planet he'd had to deal with from the first day he'd arrived.
Yet today, he didn't take time to disparage it. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder to where the slim form of the courier stood off to his left hand side, her hands behind her back, nose pointed to the breeze coming off the hills. When he looked at her, Dart immediately twitched; the spoiler across her shoulders flattening and chattering slightly before she straightened up, shoulders level, as if she expected him to give an immediate order.
Instead, the elegant red mech completely ignored her and focused on the two dark mechs were now tromping through the grass.
"Anything?" he asked.
"No sir," Bill replied, pausing a respectful distance off from his field commander as he saluted him. "Nothing."
The second dark robot quickly touched his fingers to his Decepticon sigil before shook his head as well. "What Ted said."
Pyrotech nodded slowly. "Well then. You two head into the city. Get to the train yard, where we arranged, they were running on schedule last I checked. Wait for my call. My request to the ship for a team with flight capabilities has been accepted, so it shouldn't be long now before they show up."
A dry chuckle escaped him. "Go on."
"Yes sir."
"Yes sir, on our way."
Immediately the two mechs nodded, turned and headed back down the hill.
Dry grass bent under their weight and then sprang back up as they vanished into the terrain, swallowed by the curve of a hill.
Now, all Pyrotech could do was wait and hope for once that they'd sent him someone competent...
Week 4 - Day 1.
Long green stalks of grass shuffled and then bowed against the wind. Tiny purple flowers flickered and fluttered, lifted by the breeze. There was a dirt path that led up to an ancient wooden shack. It had been abandoned for a long, long time, the boards grey and weathered. Some had peeled away from the boards they were nailed to and, and the planks lay rotting. The door had long ago fallen off the iron hinges; the frame held rusty memories of their ability to open and close.
An old truck rested nearby, next to a sagging fence. The vehicle's tires had long crumbled into grey powder. The engine had been stripped decades ago, the hood thrown to one side. Everything was a red shade, the same color as the Sea of Rust. Grass grew up into the holes in the fenders. A tiny garter snake that was no more than a pencil with bright, beady eyes rested along the edge; soaking up as much heat as it possibly could.
It was an overcast evening. The sky was trailed grey, and only a few stray stripes of blue peeked through the clouds. There was an overall softness to the light that said that the sun would be setting soon, even it couldn't be seen.
Pyrotech was standing on the top of the ridge. The gleaming red mech didn't seem to be bothered that he was out in the open. Really, he wasn't. The humans didn't come out to this area much at this time of day. In the morning and afternoon, yes, they wandered here and there taking quaint pictures of old abandoned houses; sagging wrecks that his architectural mind hated with a passion. Inferior builds, inferior materials. Like so much on this backwards, ugly little planet he'd had to deal with from the first day he'd arrived.
Yet today, he didn't take time to disparage it. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder to where the slim form of the courier stood off to his left hand side, her hands behind her back, nose pointed to the breeze coming off the hills. When he looked at her, Dart immediately twitched; the spoiler across her shoulders flattening and chattering slightly before she straightened up, shoulders level, as if she expected him to give an immediate order.
Instead, the elegant red mech completely ignored her and focused on the two dark mechs were now tromping through the grass.
"Anything?" he asked.
"No sir," Bill replied, pausing a respectful distance off from his field commander as he saluted him. "Nothing."
The second dark robot quickly touched his fingers to his Decepticon sigil before shook his head as well. "What Ted said."
Pyrotech nodded slowly. "Well then. You two head into the city. Get to the train yard, where we arranged, they were running on schedule last I checked. Wait for my call. My request to the ship for a team with flight capabilities has been accepted, so it shouldn't be long now before they show up."
A dry chuckle escaped him. "Go on."
"Yes sir."
"Yes sir, on our way."
Immediately the two mechs nodded, turned and headed back down the hill.
Dry grass bent under their weight and then sprang back up as they vanished into the terrain, swallowed by the curve of a hill.
Now, all Pyrotech could do was wait and hope for once that they'd sent him someone competent...