[ti]Ep 3[/ti]One Plus One Equals Too Much [Closed]

[Cintra]

Episode Three | Week Two | Day Six

There were plenty of jobs around Blackridge to try to fix up the base. Futile attempts at cleaning, re-wiring lighting and trying to make the generators work for an outpost they were never meant to power... Scouting runs to look for new Energon sources, or trying to help in the mines that were functional with some labor and basic first aid for minor injuries.... This was just a few of the offerings others could make to earn their keep! Only... Cintra wasn't smart enough to do any of those things effectively. She could scout, but she couldn't pinpoint where stuff was should she find anything. She could try to run wires, but they'd probably just become a tangled knot shed have to fumble with given her chunkier fingers. She was too small for any real sort of labor, unless the job involved wedging within a small hole or trying to fish something out that got lost in one. Alas, not all jobs required skill, and it was one of those that she was tasked to this day.

Hover carts were super useful for the mining facilities. Bypass rocks and divots that could jostle cargo, safely maneuver volatile raw crystal Energon into areas it can be processed into a less dangerous form. They were not uncommon in the active work areas, as well as other machinery that tried to make extracting fuel effective and streamlined. Issue was, such tools were kept where they were most valuable, and little delivery orders weren’t on the 'important' menu. Because of this, a small cart had been obtained. A flat panel of metal, some stapled-on chunks of wood on the sides to try to make at least a slight barrier to keep things on... The wheels were standard basic wheels, three of them inflated rubber to at least offer some kind of cushion, but the back right one was a solid disk bent off kilter so it squeaked and protested every inch along the way.

Despite the cart being an absolute shitshow, it served its purpose however, some larger storage cubes of Energon slapped atop it to be wheeled to its new destination. In its processed form it wasn't nearly as volatile as the crystal, so concern over the shaking making it blow up wasn't a thing. Even if it was a real threat however... the individual pulling it would have had zero clue about that little fact and would have walked along happily with true ignorance at her heels.

Cintra made her way through the Space Bridge without a care in the world, tugging behind her the makeshift cart by a part rusted chain. She didn't seem to care she had been given bottom of the barrel supplies however, far too used to working on that outskirt planet trying to hold a crappy Decepticon outpost that was down to the dregs. She was on a little mission, and it wasn't until she fully exited the Bridge and it closed behind her that her progress halted.

Pausing to look around, the cart continued to wobble forward a short bit before stalling, Cintra's helm shooting straight up to look at the rocky ceiling that was oh so very high from being cored out for mining. She had never seen a REAL mine, one that was utilized well and had gutted out every scrap of fuel. It caught her attention for a good while, orange eyes skating along the surface to note all the scrapes and ragged platforms. While it was all dingy rock really, it was still interesting all things considered.

In contrast, Cintra was the opposite of rock color.

Neon pink, flashes of bright yellow and a vibrant teal... the femme was not clad like a vast majority of Decepticons, her frame some kind of obnoxious statement to cry out 'look at me I am fabulous'. Her overall structure was more height than mass, a series of directional ball joints offering maneuverability as well as sporting sharp cone styled spikes that jutted out to deter being grabbed. Her forearms tapered out into broad hands, the rightmost one lifting to reach up and scratch idly under her jaw in a mindless movement while she looked around. Her ((second?)) most notable trait however was the long cable that protruded from the back of her helm and shoulders, though it was tucked close to her frame, draped down to the ground and looping around her ankles as if it were merely a trailing tassel of a cloak.

"Oooh..."

[Sparkplug]

It was about time for the scheduled Energon shipment.

A pretty boring matter of routine, generally. Blackridge held vast reserves of the stuff, but it was a waste to funnel too much in one go over to the Urals, so every so often, some hapless vehicon with nothing better to do towed a cart of cubes over.

One hapless yet creative vehicon had tried opening the portal and just throwing the cubes through. Now there was an experiment that was not to be repeated.

With all that said, when Sparkplug heard the characteristic boom and roar of reality tearing open, she took a few nano-kliks longer to finish soldering a component into the circuit board she was working on, huffing a few soft vents onto the molten silver to encourage it to set, before she ambled out into the central cavern of what had once been a nameless played-out mine, and was now affectionately referred to - by the occupants at least - as Sparklabs.

It was an imposing space. Up above, the roof soared to cathedral-like heights, decorated with stalactites and dotted with clean white lights, a narrower fissure leading higher still into the mountain's darkness. The ground had been smoothed by the fusing touch of energon mining drills, but the walls remained rough and unworked, and around the edges of the cavern, a few surviving stalagmites held their solemn, timeless vigil. Inset rails described what had once been a depot for floating mining carts, and a severely stripped down chassis that might once have been an energon drill lurked in one corner, near the long sliding doors that stood open, exposing the lower-ceilinged research space beyond.

"Got the shipment? That you, Vox?" Sparkplug called out, rounding towards the yellow and black striped alcove designated for spacebridge arrivals. VX-983 had had the task dumped on him the last couple of times, and the vehicon always seemed sulky about having to set pede in a mine. That was what the mining caste were for, after all. "I really think if you'd just stop and listen, I could persuade you to try a grenade laun-"

The short femme came to a dead stop, large green optics widening as she caught sight of the neon-pink stranger awaiting her. "...whoa. Wait just a- ooooh."

Drawn closer as though she were a bolt drawn to a magnet, Sparkplug took a few paces in either direction, trying to take the strange femme in from every angle. "Oh, wow, look at this... fully ball-jointed waist, shoulders, hips, wrists... your flexibility has got to be amazing. Are you digitigrade? Those knees look like they could work either way... small footprint, can you balance on those wheels and roll? And that head-tail, what is that, is that powered by myoelectric muscle? Looks really prehensile, there's no joint structure... and those hands! What are those built for? Sure isn't stealth! You'd stand out against a supernova!"

Lifting her helm, her expansive field alight with fascinated curiosity, the engineer added, "Sparkplug, that's me. Hello. You're new, right? I would have remembered if I'd seen you before."

[Cintra]

A voice?

It was rather expected really... a delivery had to be going to someone rather than a vacant storage area. If it were simply being squirreled away for later use in one of the little hoards there would likely be a LOT more Energon being delivered in one go, unless the Space Bridge really didn’t utilize much power and she was expected to scuttle back and forth a few dozen times? Whatever the case, the presence of another made things make much more sense, and Cintra's helm snapped down from staring at the ceiling to look over at the small Femme that had walked into the open.

The other Cybertronian was clad in white and green, colors that were not particularly common from what she has seen in the past among the Decepticon army. Green itself could be used in some ways... muted colors like dull foliage, grayed and subdued for that 'manly look' she couldn't understand... but green as a term was super broad, and the tone picked by the other was brighter! Though in Cintra's honest opinion it could be a few shades more to really compliment the striking white. This was the first thing she noticed, before the arm caught her eye.

Orange optics flicked over and down to the elongated limb, noting the atypical bend to it. She only really got a fracture of a second to even register what she saw however, before the unknown individual started speaking again, her gaze swinging back up to look at the other's faceplate as she started to go down a long critique of her frame and structure. During this she was weaving from side to side to get some different views of her like she was some inanimate object on display.

After each question, Cintra's mouth would start to open, before it closed. Only to open again at the next, and then close. She rocked a bit from ped to ped, trying to keep track of all the things being asked, scrabbling some as one question turned to three, before turning into six, a compliment cast in at the end? It all spinning in her helm as the words softly echoed in the large chamber. There was a good bit of confusion in play, the tendril that slung down her back tucking a bit closer as it curled about her ankles.

"I- uh.."

Barely a stammer of an attempted start, before a welcome and introduction was made, things stopping enough for her to get some foundation to try to respond now. With another shift of her weight from side to side, Cintra dropped the chain she was holding onto with a rattle, as her hands clapped together to weave her chunky fingers.

"Yes! I only arrived the other day! My name is Cintra and uh..."

Her processor spun back some, trying to think on some of the questions that had been asked.

"I got normal flexibility; I think? I can't wheel scooty, and I have no idea what words you said..."

There was a pause as she thought, before she perked up, all excited as if it was a grand impressive feat she remembered another question.

"I got suction cups!"

Cintra's hands pulled apart, showing Sparkplug the black rubber disks on the underside. They were rounded square shapes, a few layers so if one started to fail there were some backups so she didn’t pop clean off and plummet to her death back in the day. The underside of each finger had the same black material, though it looked more for gripping without damaging rather than any form of actual suction.

After this was shown, her right arm wrenched back, before looping underneath the cable to pull it forward in front of her. The shape draped over her arm, Cintra letting it simply hang down to the ground where the end held a sharp mildly barbed blade. There were pink panels down from the exterior at her helm, but they didn't lead all the way to the end, the rest seemingly sheathed in an external cover that was split into four lengthwise. More likely than not, just like the underside of her fingers, they were a 'grippy' material so she didn't scratch up and damage glass, though there were some mended slashes and marks around some of it. Muted, as the black matte material hid a lot from a casual look, but when being observed they would be seen as evidence of fights and damage.

"I used to clean and repair glass and these were my tether!"

Granted... there were additional suction cups on the end once upon a time, but those were long gone.

With a flick of her free hand, Cintra then pointed at the other Femme.

"What are you?"

A... weird phrase. Not the most graceful, but she sounded upbeat and not a disgusted 'the fuck are you' about the weird arm. By far, Cintra would be the last one to really judge some quirky thing on another. She just didn't have the tact to not be blunt at times.

[Sparkplug]

Oooh.

Sparkplug had worked on a lot of different frame designs through the years, but she'd never been faced with the specific challenge of designing a window cleaner for the massive towers of the major cities. If she'd thought about it, she'd have probably gone for retractable electromagnetic harpoons, but Cintra's design philosophy betrayed a quite different approach: attaching to the glass itself without leaving so much as a mark.

That was fascinating. The suction cups were neat, the hands lined with a grippy material she didn't immediately recognise, but it was Cintra's four-way split head tail that really had her attention. A second barrage of questions were forestalled, however, by the other femme's innocently phased 'what are you'?

Sparkplug couldn't help it; she burst out laughing, shaking her helm. "Well now, there's lots of ways I can answer that. I'm a grounder; picked myself up a six-wheeled off-roader alt from the natives. I'm a research officer, specialising in weapons. If it shoots, stabs, maims or explodes things, I'm there and I'm interested. But if you're asking what's going on with my lopsided frame layout, that's because I've built the highest-output particle lance into my arm that I could manage, and believe me when I say that that is a lot of firepower."

She gestured up and down her compact frame loosely. "Absolutely riddled with charge accumulators from helm to pede, you'd better believe it. But when it comes to the particle accelerator and collimators, you pretty much have to mount them in a straight line, and I needed more space than I had. So more arm length, and an extra elbow to keep it nimble. You should see the output. But let's talk about your frame for a minute! That is a gorgeous piece of design!"

Clasping her hands, with the distinct air of someone that had previously gotten carried away and been chastised for it, she asked brightly, "Do you mind if I handle your head tail and hands? I am incredibly curious about their construction. Were you forged or constructed cold? If you don't mind telling me that, either. You should come on in and sit down! No point rushing back to Blackridge unless there's an immediate duty waiting for you."

Just watching Cintra move the unusual limb was an education in itself. It had to have some kind of internal structure in there, but the amount of control it must take to not only manipulate the limb but to allow it to operate as four smaller ones? Cintra's prioperception model had to be totally custom as well. Sparkplug's current project was entirely forgotten, swept away on a tide of delighted excitement.

[Cintra]

"I'm a grounder too!"

As if it wasn't entirely apparent given her very much not hidden wheels...

"Wait wait wait... what?"

Sparkplug mostly lost Cintra way back at the word 'Particle Lance'. In her processor, the phrase meant that it had little grainy particulates, or sparkly particles, or some kind of sandy who knows what, and then combed it with the word 'lance' which made her think of a long poking stabbing weapon. Given brilliant deduction skills, ((and an intentional ignore of the word 'firepower')), it meant it was either a sandpaper spear to rasp nasty wounds, or it was a spear painted brilliant colors with flecks of mica in the paint. This secondary thought alone made her eyes metaphorically glitter, while the finials on the side of her helm flicked up with excitement.

A muted rubber muffled clap then sounded out as her hands rammed together to weave fingertips once more in front of her chest, the rapid motion paired with a popped squeal through clenched teeth and a grin. As the tendril was released... since she simply HAD to clap her hands... its shape was simply let loose. With a sweeping pull it lowered down to the ground without touching its surface, the blade idly flicking up a bit from the movement before the apparatus slunk back to rest behind her frame. It would gradually slip from side to side a small amount, pairing well with her rocking weight that shifted once more with bottled up energy from ped to ped, making its motion not unlike the wake on a zigzagging boat.

Should her processor have held incredible self-awareness to manage her tendrils as Sparkplug considered, then it was perhaps apparent she may have made some trades to afford that skill...

"I don't know what charge accumu-whatever, or colleemaytors are..."

Her helm turned to the side some as she said this, brows furrowing as she concentrated on what little context clues she remembered. Granted, things stalled out rather well once fancy words were being thrown at her, especially when she was already distracted by a magical lance that materialized out of the other femme's long arm. It made the follow-up statement about the weapon needing more real estate and a second joint simply flew right over her helm with no attempt to reach up and catch it.

"BUT, tell me you have a glitter spear! Like a straight up stabbity that makes people bleed with STYLE."

All of her words were upbeat and borderline squawked during many points, but the last word dropped off into a sort of excited aggressive growl that was a bit too hostile, her hands pulling apart with fingertips 'bared' as if brandishing claws she did not have. It was almost as if she would throw money at the opportunity to see some boring Autobot stabbed to death with something that sparkled in the light, way too into the concept that someone else in the Decepticons could think along the same mindset as her even if the green wasn’t neon green on her frame. Cintra was even wondering what kind of PAINT Sparkplug used that could resist that on a lance, as every time she painted her knives the first time they were used in real combat the surface peeled off when scraping into wounds.

"Forget my slag! I want to see the pokey weapon!"

All the questions about her own frame got instantly punted to the side with blind abandon, focused instead on this linear little goal she absolutely HAD to see. It was to a point that there was a good chance that even if Sparkplug hadn't invited her to stay a while if she could, then Cintra would have probably lurked anyway to try to see what she imagined was spectacular. This cry and wish to see a weapon that simply wasn't actually there, was paired with her pointing at Sparkplug's long arm.

[Sparkplug]

Sparkplug couldn't help but let her attention be split into two parts. One of those parts was simply drooling over the flexibility and fine control of the tendril; the way it settled down but didn't graze the floor without her having to visually track its position, and the spike that implied that it had significant thrusting force behind it. Had to be some kind of myoelectric muscles, with some kind of selectively braced interior structure. What she'd give for a proper scan of that! Maybe if she could find something to bribe Knock Out with, he could get some detailed information on Cintra's chassis...

The other part of her was listening to the brightly-coloured femme and coming around to the realisation that the two of them were talking at complete cross-angles. But that was okay, because Cintra's misunderstanding meant that it was time for a weapons demonstration!

"Glitter spear? Like- oh! Oh, right, like a physical stabby lance. Nope, this isn't a melee weapon, sorry." She patted her left arm with her right hand, then broke into a grin. "But if you want to see a weapon that hurts people with style, you come right along with me." Turning, Sparkplug beckoned Cintra to follow her across the smoothed out rocky floor, walking alongside an inset rail over to where a set of tall sliding doors stood open.

The development space on the other side was considerably more brightly lit, a tall, roughly rectangular chamber melted from the cavern's walls with fusion drills. An assortment of monitors were set up on the walls, a few of them showing technical readouts of an ongoing simulation run while the rest showed different views of the sunlit mountainside above. Set amidst and above most of the monitors, a string of fairylights were tacked to the stone, spelling out 'Sparklabs' in cheery twinkling lights. Work benches and machining tools lined the walls, a distinctly jury-rigged look to the whole place.

If she explained the terms Cintra didn't know, would the other femme listen? Probably not, Sparkplug decided. Still, that was no reason not to try!

"Charge accumulators are like boxes you fill up with energy," the engineer began, gesturing with both hands as she talked. "So if you've got a small flow of energy, you can use it to fill up a bunch of boxes, then empty all the boxes at once to get a lot of energy for a short amount of time. A collimator focuses stuff into straight lines. So say you've got a big burst of stuff that's going in every direction-" she gestured descriptively with her hands, "-then you feed it through a focusing system and that gets it mostly going in one direction. Then you have a bunch of focusing arrays in a row, and you tighten that burst further and further down until it's all focused into a really narrow, really straight beam. That makes it good for cutting. See?"

The southern end of the room was mostly walled off by the distinctive corrugated sides of shipping containers, stacked end to end two units long and two high, and welded together. The word 'Maersk' and a white star on a blue background was still clearly visible on the sides. Sparkplug gestured at them, adding with a grin, "Full of rocks. Had to wall off the firing range with something, and we have a lot of rocks around. So. Want to see a little weapons test?"

[Cintra]

Hearing that her wonderful mental image of some kind of spectacular spear was completely misguided was a sad little blow.

"Well, if it isn’t a lance, why is it called a lance?"

Misleading much?

In Cintra's opinion it was confusing and nonsensical for the weapon to actually be called such a thing without the associated traits. She could have tried to apply it to other ideas, but the 'Isn't a melee weapon' is where her creativity was clipped rapidly down. It nerfed whatever she could scrabble together as an alternative from even being in the running.

Looking behind her shoulder, Cintra glanced at the cart of Energon cubes, wondering if she had to do something with them to properly complete her task, or if she merely had to walk them through and leave it to Sparkplug to handle? Was she expected to abandon the cart for now? Or did she have to take it back for a return trip later on? Finding the answer to this was something to consider at another time, for she was being told to follow, and as such the pink femme turned back and walked along at Sparkplug's heels, helm rising to peer once more along the cavern's rough-hewn ceiling. This area would transition then to the more workshop styled environment.

To be expected Cintra's gaze settled instantly upon the tiny lighting specks across the way.

A question bubbled up at the back of her throat with this, having her own thoughts on the words and a concern, however Sparkplug flowed smoothly into another explanation, Cintra's finials flicking somewhat while orange eyes peered back over. With things boiled down to basics, they made more sense to her, at least up until the end when focusing arrays were brought up, as in her mind if a collimator focused it, why not just make that thing better or put another right in front of the blast? Simplicity!

"Why a bunch of little boxes when you can make a crate?..."

Multiple little battery packs ((which was a totally more logical term in her simple mind than that overly complex word)) were probably obnoxious, when one big one may be better! Or so, she thought. Whatever the case, she crooked her helm a bit, weight shifting to her other leg as the offer for a weapon's test was thrown out. She knew she was interested, yet she wondered if it would be nice like she hoped earlier, or if it was standard Decepticon red beams or Energon blue. Uncreative. OR, it may be hard ammunition, which was even worse unless there was some flare to the strike. Despite apprehension, she was often easy to wrangle into things however, enthusiastic, feeding off other's energy to a point that even if it was 'boring' she would be game.

"Sure!"

A brief pause, so very short as her eyes widened a smidge, remembering.

"ALSO also also... also... also also also..."

Said fast to cut in with words rapid-fire before Sparkplug could speak again, realizing that she needed to jump when thoughts hit her instead of letting things get too far ahead where backpedaling hard would be awkward. Her left arm would whip up, pointing at the small lights and the words they made.

"Sparks in a lab are really dangerous! There are things that go..."

Cintra then held her hands palm to palm, before she pulled them apart with a muffled 'kaboom' sound effect played out, fingers wiggling to go hand in hand like it was some sort of shrapnel. While Energon being highly combustible or not when processed into a liquid form was not really known, the idea of those large 'flamable' and 'warning' signs that were often plastered around labs came to mind. It also brought up the memory of those little yellow triangle icons with explosion marks... NEON yellow mind you... on big air canisters? ((That part was confusing, how was air an explosive?)) but she'd never forget that searing little symbol simply because it was cute, it ingraining in her head how dangerous sparks, lasers, and flame were in medical and industrial areas.

It was like naming a Medical Bay a Wound Workshop or Bleedout Bunker or Death Den.

"So, you should really look into fixing that."

Choo choo, all aboard the ignorance train.

[Sparkplug]

About to answer Cintra's first question, Sparkplug stopped and turned, breaking into laughter at the other femme's warning about stray sparks. "I mean, y'not wrong! I've made a lot of nasty explosives in my time, and that stuff can get real uppity before it's properly stabilised. But don't worry, it's not short for 'sparks everywhere so look out lab'. It's like, Sparkplug development lab, it's named after me!" She jerked a thumb at her own chestplate, then added playfully, "Because I'm modest."

Strolling down the lab towards the weapons testing range, the diminutive engineer went on, "Why a bunch of small capacitor systems when you can build one giant one? Well, that would be simpler, but I have to make the very best use of my internal volume possible. I've got charge accumulators threaded all through my chassis, in every space I could fit them. If there was an interior void anywhere, it's full of machinery now. Sure as heck don't have any storage compartments left. If I turned all that into a crate, there'd be a giant cube mounted on my back, and that just isn't practical."

Circling the double-thick wall of shipping containers and rocks, Sparkplug gestured to her right. "Okay. Weapons test. Stand to the right of me, and do not move behind me; it won't be safe there." There was in fact a scorch mark on the wall behind where Sparkplug stood, hinting that something energetic had happened there in the past. "It'll all make sense in a second. Now, you were confused about why I call it a lance. Well, for energy emission weapons, 'lance' is the descriptor for continuous beam emitters. Watch."

Lifting up her left arm and pointing it straight ahead of her, her mechanisms whirred as the limb began to transform. Her hand split and collapsed back into her arm, the spiralling plating twisting to open up gaps within it. Smooth segments of plating engulfed her twin elbows, locking the limb rigidly in a straight line, then the last third of her arm slowly split into three pylons, baring a central emitter at their root. An EM field flared to life, unshielded for lack of space, and crackling bars of green-white energy snapped into being between the ends of the pylons, forming an upturned triangle. The back of her shoulder reconfigured, plating withdrawing to bare a smooth black nozzle.

"Annnd... fire!"

A brilliant line of light snapped into being from the central emitter, argent tinged with emerald, casting razor-edged shadows. At the same instant, a counterbalancing gout of green energy blasted backwards from her shoulder, supporting her weapon arm against the tremendous recoil of the particle lance. Sparkplug dragged the scalding, intolerable beam this way and that across the rock face at the other end of the range for a few seconds, her expression cast in a manic grin, then wobbled as the energy output suddenly dwindled and went out.

Rubbing her overwhelmed optics with her free hand and waiting for them to readjust to the lab's strip lights, Sparkplug vented a sigh of appreciation, her systems running hot after dumping every erg of energy she had into the beam. Fresh black char marked the wall behind her, and down the other end of the range, glowing orange trenches were scored into the rock face where the beam had passed.

[Cintra]

"OooOooohhh..."

Ok, the name thing made a lot more sense now.

Cintra knew she could be a bit of a ditz more than a few times, not completely ignorant to that fact, yet it couldn't really be helped when she got on a certain train of thought and just ran with it without properly considering other options. It could result in more than a few awkward moments where she felt she knew she was being judged sometimes, but she tried not to let it bother her, jumping right past that little flub to see just what Sparkplug was up to next.

"The most modest."

She mused this out some with a lopsided grin, a light click of peds against stone while she followed the other Cybertronian. She would offer a nod of understanding at the explanation about the battery packs, that too making more sense to her given how a larger backpack could be awkward to anyone. There was however the little issue that she wasn't in Sparkplug's line of sight when she nodded, a bit of the 'oh, I understand' lost to the void, yet the intention had been there. Whatever the case, as they reached the firing range and she was told to step aside? Well, Cintra did as she was told.

Positioning herself to the right of Sparkplug, Cintra settled down with heels close to one another, her arms hanging lax at either side while orange eyes danced across the scorched rocks a short ways off. There was undoubtedly a lot of firepower or demos being thrown that way, it interesting to think what sort of things this place produced. It was while her thoughts drifted over this that the tendril that extruded from the back of her helm and shoulders carefully curled close to her frame, its more slender end wrapping a couple times around one leg to root it in place and keep it from getting in the way. She didn't want to absentmindedly swish it to one side or another, knowing she was prone to not even consider it consciously.

The last thing she wanted was for whatever threat there was to launch back and hurt her.

At the sound of transformation, the pink femme's eyes ripped away from the distant wall, looking over at the limb that turned into a gun that was a bit bigger than she would have expected. The majority of the time, in-built guns seemed to be from the elbow down, compact and easy to reel around and fire with some twitch maneuverability. To have the entire arm transform however was interesting, and if Cintra had been tasked to bet and wager, she would have assumed only one of the joints would have smoothed out and locked together. Her processor barely got to churn through this however before the weapon launched active and fired.

A brilliant beam of green, a flash pulse of the same color popping behind them... Cintra's eyes lit up that it wasn’t a typical color, though to be frank she may have had a similar response even if it was just red. Just because a beam may be red and bland, the same color as many others, didn't make it mute and void! Yet, to have it be different was that extra little sprinkles atop a situation. As such, her palms whapped hard on the armor just above her knees, drumming rapidly a moment as if to bleed off some of the energy and excitement that just spiked with a pattered taptaptap of the rubber palms against metal.

"OH!"

Without conscious effort her previous attempts to keep her tendril safe bled away instantly beneath a bout of excitement, the cable unwrapping before snapping from side to side in two fast lurches. She understood the idea of a lance now, that style of weaponry not really something she had seen before. She was accustomed to others having standard blasters, a sort of canon, pistols, Flux's style rotary gun... Nothing with a streaking line.

"That is so cool!"

The shrill squawk was loud within the relative silence after the weapon's roared discharge, the higher pitched yell bouncing around the vacant mine system.