[ti]Ep 3[/ti]All Hands on Deck [Open]
Mar 29, 2020 18:13:46 GMT -5
Post by Skirmisher on Mar 29, 2020 18:13:46 GMT -5
(Coincides with the Thread: Format: link )
[Week 2, Day 2]
[Quarters: Skirmisher]
“Red Alert! Review cameras and track Bridge Logs. Find me Ratchet's location. Now!!! Bumblebee! Collect Carbine and Bolo. Report to the Control Room immediately. All others on standby. Should you be called upon I will not tolerate delay,” the voice reverberated through the Outpost. The deep rumbling Baritone of Optimus Prime had been unmistakable.
Stepping out of his Quarters, Skirmisher hadn't had to be told twice or to be given time to prepare. He'd been in his Quarters cleaning the Ion Magnum and had only managed to reassemble it when the Orders had been given prompting the Praxian to have managed to his pedes and to have caught the chair before it had fallen to the floor to set it back on its four legs. The Ion Magnum had been returned to its holster inside the concealed cavity beneath his left arm before he'd set foot in the corridor. The hatch sealed behind him, and the auto-lock engaged before the Enforcer proceeded towards the Control Room. Protocols that had laid dormant within the Praxian's frame were switched on, his senses were on alert and the normally calm blue visor had taken on a more menacing appearance from a combination of the deliberate movements to the tiny almost indiscernible changes taking place beneath the thick armored hide. Though the visor still refused to betray the inner thoughts and intentions of the Praxian, Skirmisher's own professionalism had been taken several notches higher.
[Control Room]
His pedes carried him through the corridors before exiting into the Control Room where the industrial light fixtures within the Control Room reflecting off of the Praxian's Armored plates in the right way. The air given to the Enforcer couldn't have been mistaken as anything other than determination and intimidation for those that happened to earn his ire before having moved deeper into the main chamber.
[Week 2, Day 2]
[Quarters: Skirmisher]
“Red Alert! Review cameras and track Bridge Logs. Find me Ratchet's location. Now!!! Bumblebee! Collect Carbine and Bolo. Report to the Control Room immediately. All others on standby. Should you be called upon I will not tolerate delay,” the voice reverberated through the Outpost. The deep rumbling Baritone of Optimus Prime had been unmistakable.
Stepping out of his Quarters, Skirmisher hadn't had to be told twice or to be given time to prepare. He'd been in his Quarters cleaning the Ion Magnum and had only managed to reassemble it when the Orders had been given prompting the Praxian to have managed to his pedes and to have caught the chair before it had fallen to the floor to set it back on its four legs. The Ion Magnum had been returned to its holster inside the concealed cavity beneath his left arm before he'd set foot in the corridor. The hatch sealed behind him, and the auto-lock engaged before the Enforcer proceeded towards the Control Room. Protocols that had laid dormant within the Praxian's frame were switched on, his senses were on alert and the normally calm blue visor had taken on a more menacing appearance from a combination of the deliberate movements to the tiny almost indiscernible changes taking place beneath the thick armored hide. Though the visor still refused to betray the inner thoughts and intentions of the Praxian, Skirmisher's own professionalism had been taken several notches higher.
[Control Room]
His pedes carried him through the corridors before exiting into the Control Room where the industrial light fixtures within the Control Room reflecting off of the Praxian's Armored plates in the right way. The air given to the Enforcer couldn't have been mistaken as anything other than determination and intimidation for those that happened to earn his ire before having moved deeper into the main chamber.