[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Cause and Effect [Closed]
Mar 13, 2022 14:33:37 GMT -5
Post by Blitzwing on Mar 13, 2022 14:33:37 GMT -5
After months, or seconds, as Blitzwing's accurate perception of time was sometimes temperamental, he hummed aloud in contemplation. His plan had been met only with quiet, passive approval; the general had hoped for a full-throated endorsement of his next move, instead. Either they were too terrified to raise any sort of objection, which he would certainly not fault them on, or neither of them had the necessary knowledge of chemical thermodynamics. Admittedly, Blitzwing also lacked this knowledge.
Emotional faculties aside, he happened to be mature enough to realize when a plan lacked a solid foundation, in this case his throwing of a bomb into a pool of chemical Slop. Blitzwing gave the Slop an iron optic for several moments before reaching down to pinch the missile cap from off the floor(ceiling). With a careful-yet-casual adroitness the general slotted the cryo-munition back into place beside its brother and sister, then fastened the cap back on. Sliding the missile back into place on its launcher, Blitzwing simplified his plan of attack.
Preemptively, he stuck his head through the doorway above Knock Out and Flatline, his optics scanning in the direction of where the latter had drawn attention to. A cable... albeit one with that oh-so Decepticon-esque purple emissive lighting; easy enough, Blitzwing thought.
"I would suggest you both stand back.... YOU'RE IN THE SPLASH ZONE, AFTER ALL!!" Though he would offer a spoken warning, no further courtesy was provided. At the conclusion of his verbal outburst, Blitzwing flooded the hallway with sound and thrust, his jet thrusters firing up on the back of his torso. Slowly he rose, his ascent careful and calculated as to prevent doming the ceiling(floor). Once he had risen to the top(bottom) of the medbay door frame, Blitzwing clamped his servos on the edge of the door, using it as an anchor to pull himself into the flipped room.
The Slop splashed and churned beneath the cone of Blitzwing's downward thrust, giving some credence to the triplechanger's earlier warning-slash-outburst. The door was released shortly after he had inserted himself into the room properly, now subject only to his ability to maneuver mid-air, without much else to brace onto. The various carts, wires, and bits of machinery that hung from the ceiling(floor) were of little concern to Blitzwing as he absentmindedly shoved the pseudo-vines aside as he traversed the room.
Thankfully the Decepticons tended to make important things sport a striking purple glow, otherwise the general might've had to float back down to the medics to ask for them to point to it again. Once decently close to the doohickey, Blitzwing cupped the dangling end in his left servo, and yanked it clean from the wall with his right. He had neglected asking whether or not this particular piece of equipment needed a special tool to be removed from the wall; an oversight on Flatline's part, if there had been one required.
Slowly, Blitzwing rotated in the air to look down at the medics gathered in the door below, holding up the cable for their viewing pleasure.
"This, yes?" He called out.
Emotional faculties aside, he happened to be mature enough to realize when a plan lacked a solid foundation, in this case his throwing of a bomb into a pool of chemical Slop. Blitzwing gave the Slop an iron optic for several moments before reaching down to pinch the missile cap from off the floor(ceiling). With a careful-yet-casual adroitness the general slotted the cryo-munition back into place beside its brother and sister, then fastened the cap back on. Sliding the missile back into place on its launcher, Blitzwing simplified his plan of attack.
Preemptively, he stuck his head through the doorway above Knock Out and Flatline, his optics scanning in the direction of where the latter had drawn attention to. A cable... albeit one with that oh-so Decepticon-esque purple emissive lighting; easy enough, Blitzwing thought.
"I would suggest you both stand back.... YOU'RE IN THE SPLASH ZONE, AFTER ALL!!" Though he would offer a spoken warning, no further courtesy was provided. At the conclusion of his verbal outburst, Blitzwing flooded the hallway with sound and thrust, his jet thrusters firing up on the back of his torso. Slowly he rose, his ascent careful and calculated as to prevent doming the ceiling(floor). Once he had risen to the top(bottom) of the medbay door frame, Blitzwing clamped his servos on the edge of the door, using it as an anchor to pull himself into the flipped room.
The Slop splashed and churned beneath the cone of Blitzwing's downward thrust, giving some credence to the triplechanger's earlier warning-slash-outburst. The door was released shortly after he had inserted himself into the room properly, now subject only to his ability to maneuver mid-air, without much else to brace onto. The various carts, wires, and bits of machinery that hung from the ceiling(floor) were of little concern to Blitzwing as he absentmindedly shoved the pseudo-vines aside as he traversed the room.
Thankfully the Decepticons tended to make important things sport a striking purple glow, otherwise the general might've had to float back down to the medics to ask for them to point to it again. Once decently close to the doohickey, Blitzwing cupped the dangling end in his left servo, and yanked it clean from the wall with his right. He had neglected asking whether or not this particular piece of equipment needed a special tool to be removed from the wall; an oversight on Flatline's part, if there had been one required.
Slowly, Blitzwing rotated in the air to look down at the medics gathered in the door below, holding up the cable for their viewing pleasure.
"This, yes?" He called out.