2016-02-26 Crystal Ball
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Participants||Blast Off, Brainstorm, Grimlock, Mercy, Pipes, Skystalker|
|Scene GM||Mia, Tez|
|Summary||The colonists left us an interesting toy|
With negotiations on-going, the Lost Lighters have been left at loose ends to preferably not cause a war, okay? That's about as far as their directions go before they are turned loose on shore leave. Recon? Whatever. Have fun. Don't cause a war. They can handle that much, right?
Yesterday's adventures resulted in a little bonus information for them, outlining the areas in the metrotitan's head where the Galactic Council and its goons have been unable to penetrate and begin mining. There, the security has kept back all who approach, leaving halls quiet. Some of the mining companies think it will just take a Cybertronian touch to open the doors, but it's really just a theory. The rest of Hubworld is a bustle of activity as traders from different quadrants of the galaxy meet to swap goods, stories, and probably diseases. Organics, amirite.
Pipes was weirded out enough by the, er, makeup of Hubworld that he initially wasn't even going to set foot outside the Lost Light. Weirded out and saddened, and maybe just working on plans for an exhibit of his collection would be a better way to spend time. But, he reminded himself he's here for adventure, even the disturbing kind. Besides. They have shopping.
So, Pipes has emerged and is ready to explore. He feels a chill, but not due to the temperature. "Anyone up for finding a market or shopping district? Maybe somewhere warm?" He rubs his hands together.
Grimlock , by all rights, shouldn't be on the station. Then again, Grimlock probably shouldn't be anywhere 'civilized' to begin with, due to the aura of menace and general uncivility he carries around with him. Still, here's the dinobot, stomping through the bustling marketplace as if he couldn't care less. Which ... is likely true. He grunts, and then glances over his shoulder at the ragtag bunch of robots he's dragged along with him THIS time. He pauses at Pipes' question, "Not really, no." he rumbles. "Shopping is for the weak. It's easier to just -TAKE- what you need."
Brainstorm still has evidence of his last trip ashore. Though he got the worst of the damage from being Grimlocked through a wall repaired, there are still plenty of scrapes and scratches on his plating. That whole adventure hasn't dampened his curiosity however. In fact, it only served to increase it. This whole place -- the location, the setting, as morbid as it might be -- is all rather fascinating, and now there are these species locked doors in the titan's head. This is just getting more and more interesting!
So once again, the scientist tails behind his shipmates, optics darting this way and that though, like before, he sticks close to the group. These guys litteraly have a market for Cybertronian parts. Not that he's afraid or anything! It's just that it's more interesting to travel in groups! Yeah, that's totally the reason! "And then you get kicked off the station with nothing" Brainstorm notes in response to Grimlock's claim "Plus, I thought we were supposed to be the good guys" no offense, Decepticons.
Some of the Lost Light's crew are actually determined not to cause trouble; Skystalker is one of them, and so far he has managed to not intrude on anyone or anything on the surface during his time off the ship the day prior. His lack of trouble for the local residents can likely be attributed to a few things, the least of which being that he had gone out with logistics to get supplies. Easy stuff.
Today is something quite similar; he tags after the latest excursion, only to dismay inwardly when he realizes who their muscle is going to be. Still, Skystalker is with them, stepping along with graceful strides, lingering near Pipes as they make their way into the streets proper. His amber optics are turned to a datapad. "There's a request for--- Aram branded power converters from the shuttle engineers. We can't steal those." His level, smooth voice is a bit of a downer for the 'take' angle.
Grimlock grunts at Brainstorm. "Only if you get caught." He notes- and then some other robot Grimlock doesn't know is speaking up about power converters. "We could if we really wanted." He notes, mostly as a matter of principle. Still, for the time being, Grimlock seems content to just TALK crimes rather than DO crimes. We'll see how long that lasts.
There is a general buzz of whispers that brewak out as the Cybertronians arrive to check out Hubworld. Throughout the rest of the universe most organics have a rather active intolerance towards the Transformers, and especially those under the watch oif there Galactic Council. But here on Hubworld there are areas too secure for the miners to access, areas that perhaps those of a similar origin can access... thus it is (mostly) all smiles that greet the giant space robots.
Though not all are happy to have Cybertronians here. As the contingent of then arrive, a little red organic in a rather official looking suit marches. In fact, the guy beelines his strutting right towards them. He is cut off from view though as there mention of 'shopping' has Pipes swarmed by a gaggle of scrawny organic children, all Yelling and brandishing all kinds of things for the robots to take notice of! (more)
Shopping? Someone mentioned shopping? Mercy is usually right at the front of whatever group is going towards that...and today isn't any different. She steps forward as Pipes is surrounded, oooohing at the sheer variety of things being waved around. Since organics deal in diseases one might expect such business to be announced with coughs and choking sounds. This is exactly what happens! A large cluster of organics minerds come rushing out of a hallway, giving shouts about an accident. From the information 'gathered' yesterday it is known that this is a corridor that leads to the uncharted, unopened heasd area. Thick plumes of green sdmoke rushes out after the Yelling, running miners. The organics clearly are panicked with what they smell and start to run away too. Seems like if breathing is you thing now is not the time to be here. The thick concealing smog might prove to be hard for squishy fleshthings to follow in, say should someone's wish to seize this opportunity.
"I guess" Brainstorm shrugs "But there's no guarantee that you won't. I suppose we did manage it once...I still wanna see what they have here though" he sound perhaps just a bit too eager to do so. The school of children draws his attention briefly, but he doesn't try to rescue Pipes from them, or check out their wares. That's probably not what he was talking about. There are far more interesting things to look at anyways. "What blew up there?"
"Power converters ... sort of gadgety I guess, maybe the suppliers WHOA! Oh hi!" Pipes looks at Mercy with delight at how, on Hubworld, you don't go shopping, the shopping goes to you. Oh look at these adorable ragamuffins. "Wow, OK, calm down! I'd love to see what you've got, just not all at once! Hey, none of you are Terran are you?" His optics sparkle. But then there's the miners and the green smoke, so he tries to herd and/or hurry the vulnerable kiddies away. "Stay safe you guys, I'll come back!" Grimlock grunts as Pipes is overwhelmed by tiny squishy organic things. "See?" he rumbles. "This is what you get for 'shopping.' Hnf." There's more than a little disdain in his tone ... which is about usual for Grim. He cocks his head to the side as he spies that uniformed creature- but then there's the green smoke and the fleeing miners- at which point Grimlock leans over and *pokes* Brainstorm in the shoulder. "This your fault?"
"Oh, Terrans...yes, are any of you Terrans?" Mercy has a paticular fondness for Earthlings; she reaches her hand out to lightly pat Pipes' shoulder as she starts to bend down to see the wares...and instead sees the organics fleeing. "Oh...okay, Bye!" she calls before turning around to see what they are running from. "oh, that doesn't look good."
Skystalker doesn't say anything more on the topic of whether or not they could steal the converters. He knows they couldn't. They aren't exactly easy to push around. Instead of saying as much, he just keeps reading the datapad list before filing it away, just in time to see Pipes' collection of tiny organics attempting to sway him into bleeding his shanix out. He doesn't move to interfere there, either, instead remaining poised nearby, hands alighting onto the lines of his hips. Then the sounds come, and the miners, and the belching of acrid smoke. "What's happening?" Optics scan the running bustle of organics, only to return to the others. "How would this be /his/ fault, exactly?"
Brainstorm flinches away from Grimlock's poke, but when nothing worse comes he, he relaxes again to give Grimlock an indignant look "Why does everyone asume that whenever something blows up, it's my fault?" he crosses his arms, glancing at Skystalker when the other flyer voices his support, then nodding at Grimlock "I've been either on the ship, or with you" he looks at the gas, and uncrosses his arms "I don't even know what that is. I should have brought my instruments with me."
With all of the organics fleeing the area, even that angry little official, now would be an opportune time to get going towards that blocked off area! Especially with all of the conviently concealing smoke to mask such a thing.
Heading down that corridor will reveal a clutter of broken mining equipment. Stuff that was used to attempt to get past the giant door that looms ahead. A string of wires follow along the wall to the debris of the explosive that was attempted to be used on this door. Apparently the arrival of the Cybertronians accelerated the timeline of some desperate miners with a claim on what lies beyond.As it is approachd there in the thick smoke comes a sound. The classic *che-choo-choo-cheet* as the Lost Lighters get near. Outer layers of the door sgement themselves away, transforming to an access panel. 'Welcome, children of Primus,' says the door.
(The gas is too thick for the organics to breath, but since robots don't... just be prepared to scrub off the filament itwill leave behind later)
"You know why." Grimlock says to Brainstorm- but then, what's this? Some kind of transforming door? One that's TALKING to them, no less. "Hn." Grimlock says- and, uncaring of the toxic gas (organics are weak, what, with their 'lungs' and all), Grimlock looks over his shoulder. "Who's up for some tresspassing?" he says, with just a bit of eagerness in his tone. Oh dear.
Blast Off is here, kind of. The Combaticon IS interested in the fact that they are actually walking inside a metrotitan. What he is NOT interested in are the organics. I mean- ewww. Organics, right? He has some mild curiosity as an explorer, but not enough to make him really keen on shopping amongst organics. So he's been hovering in the background, not really sharing some of the others' joy.
He'd rather learn more about the Metrotitan and why the organics have an area blocked off inside it, or why they think they have any right to it at all (they don't). The former (?) mercanry knows blocked off areas mean *opportunity*. So the smoke is noted and seized upon as the Combaticon tries to slip through it unnoticed by the organics. Blast Off then stops and stares at the doorly revealed panel. His optic ridge lifts up. Yes, definitely interesting. He glances at Grimlock, of like mind.... but it IS Grimlock, and he's not so sure about the huge Dinobot (being a Decepticon) so he says nothing for now.
Having made sure the precious children were safe, Pipes follows along through the smoke to the ominous door. He wonders if the smoke is corrosive, but he doubts it, being an expert on such things. But maybe it's enough to chase away anyone besides Cybertronians like himself. "It sounds like we're being invited," he replies to Grimlock.
The familiar sound coming from a direction it really ought not to be, considering that they're all over here, instantly draws Brainstorm's attention. He doesn't even need Grimlock to encourage him before he's moving to examine the panel. There's a bright, intrigued light in his optics. Let's trespass away!
"Being invited doesn't always mean being welcome," Mercy offers helpfully to Pipes as she accompanies him towards the opening door. Metrotitan or not, open doors don't always mean good things. "But I hope this time it does."
Skystalker isn't going to leave the others now, so of course he follows along, a sweep of metallic sheen that turns matte from the clinging smog around them. He scans the detrius left behind by the miners, optics narrowed and mouth parted in silent notations. Lifting his chin at the telltale sound of a transformation, Skystalker looks to Brainstorm before the rest of them, and then back to the engineer again. "Will it open?"
Grimlock is a leader of mechs. For all his violence and bluster, he still knows when to leave someone to their own talents and predelictions- which is why Grimlock stays out of Brainstorm's way- this looks like the kind of door Brainstorm can open WITHOUT getting thrown through, which is a plus. Grimlock glances down at Skystalker, and shrugs. "Probably." he rumbles. "If it gives us too much trouble, I'll just break it." he says with alarming certainty.
"Of course you will." Skystalker's reply is quick, but also dry in its reassurance. You do you, big fella.
"Normally I'd advise caution," Blast Off finally speaks, "But I say this belongs to us anyway, not to a bunch of presumptuous organics. I say we see what's inside." The Combaticon drops his hand down, ready to draw his weapon should any trouble meet them inside.
There is a noticeable pause as Brainstorm touches the access panel and the subtle grinding sound of computational processing. Finally, the door determines, 'Sufficient trace material found' and begins to complete its transformation. The access panel folds away and so does the rest of the door. What it reveals is another room.
This one is much later and free of any of the organic mess outside of it. The engineer among you can no doubt deduce that this is a central processor hub, a main node in the head of the dead metrotitan that once would have been amain brain module. There's no activity or energy in the cabling that feeds into here, as massive wires that once spread to the rest of the head lead to here. The medic among you can clearly relate this to actual Cybertronian structuring.
The doorway remains open.
While there is no life in this room there is an odd, spiritual chill. A tingly sensation like someone else is there within your circuits.
Embedded into the main dais where all of those thick cables feed is a perfectly circular disk - a lens. Around it, to help keep it connected is an array of technology beyond even Brainstorm's creations. From this raises a pedestal an upon that is a clear viewing sphere, though it currently is void of any image. The disk is beautifully simplistic and yet so prestine, so precise that it is difficult to look at directly and not realize this.
The massive dinobot looks down at Brainstorm for a moment, as if expecting the scientist to have all the answers. When said answers aren't forthcoming enough, Grimlock's blank gaze sweeps across the other, hopefully more technical robots in the impromptu dungeoneering party.
"Anybody know what that is? I think it's important."
As the door yields, Pipes says to Mercy, "I hope so too. This is promising, though." There's that chilly feeling again, Pipes thinks as he enters the hall. But sort of warm, too. "No idea," Pipes answers as he looks around, although Grimlock probably wasn't asking him. Among all the spectacular and unknowable sights, he spies that the equally amazing door is still open, green smoke lazily curling beyond it. Pipes lingers near the entranceway, just in case, reaching out to feel the walls and cables.
Being the nearest to the door, Brainstorm enters imediately, eagerly looking about the room . He doesn't even turn around to answer Grimlock's question "It looks like part of the titan's brain." his fascination with all of this is clear in his voice "Important part too" he doesn't bother going in to detail -- it would be lost on most people here. There are far more interesting things to do than waste time explaining everything to them. Spotting the disk, the scientist moves to examine it, and the tech surounding it.
Mercy shudders as they step into the room, the chill pervading - where is the antifreeze when she needs it? "Yeah, the cold is super promising," she mutters to Pipes with a wry grin. "Careful," the medic murmurs to the gathering in general - she doesn't want to have to repair anyone...
This is definitely not what Skystalker was planning on doing today. Still-- he is here, and perhaps there is a reason for it. He slows as they enter the structure of the titan's skull, lacking in energy but overwhelming all the same. Is it disquiet, or just reverence? Both? He can't be sure. A swell rises in him, a flush of emotions from several sides. The starfighter looks up into the shapes of the casing around them, optics warm and wide, the lights on his body flickering through a series of rich blues. When Brainstorm moves to the dais, he lingers behind the engineer with a troubled, but awed look to the pristine lens at the pedestal. "...What is that?"
Blast Off can feel it, too, and while he may be a rather cold, aloof sort he can still respect where they are- WHO they are inside. He looks around, striding closer to the sphere but staying out of Brainstorm's way to allow the engineer to do his thing. He DOES however pause to raise an optic ridge at Grimlock and say, with just a subtle hint of dry sarcasm to his tone, "Oh, you think so?"
Why yes, Pipes, the door does indeed stay open. The walls and conduits Pipes touches are long since dormant. The physical part of the chill of this place is due to having been void of power for millions of years and for having been cut off from the rest of the titan. No one has beenin here for a very long time. The other part of the chill, the more spiritual,is ust as lingering as the physical.
As Brainstorm approaches, the disk shimmers though the techthat holds it does not also come to life. The disk begins to show images, flickers of ... other Brainstorms! Brainstrong for instance, one of The Brain Trust that approached him, flickers on by. There are others, a scattering of images of all manner of him doing a variety of things. One gleefuly testing a giant gun, another flying over fields of energon, another with a tall-headed sciencist-looking bot.... but those flicker and swirl away as now various Skystalkers begin to take shape. A Skystalker playing before a massive crowd, a more bird-like one tearing messingly into the corpseof someone else, one that is iin some kind of senatorial meeting, and so on. These fade as now Blast Offs appear, like one holding a broken Onslaught and weeping, or one chilling in a store that sells a variety of wines, or one that looks shot near to pieces and on the run from something or someones.
This is also when an audio message plays, complete with a sketchy holographic projection, suspected over the lens. The figure is heavily robed and all features are hidden. 'Greetings brethren. If you are hearing this then you have come too late, but do not fear. We Amazodians live still though we have ventured beynd reach." The on-the-run Blast Off vanishes as the disk now shows flickering images of unknown robots in various realities engaged in all manner of different activities before the lens once again goes blank. 'Our quest to discover reality breaks lead us to this, our final breach. Our titan gave us a parting gift, and a further purpose. Always were we meant to be explorers and this will continue to be though in ways not meant to be followed. A final gift from a beloved friend. May your journeys be as rewarding as ours shall be.'
At first, Brainstorm watches the slideshow with some amount of annoyance. His last encounter with alternate versions of hismelf was not the friendliest one. But then, as that one particular image flickers by, the grimace melts in to something softer, longing...and then the disk moves on to the next person. Brainstorm steps to the side to let others take a look, though he does keep on watching, glancing between the disk and the projection.
Grimlock stares. Moreso.
Out of precaution, Grimlock leans towards the doorway, to make sure none of those filthy organic creatures have pursued. This done, he looks back to the lens and the fizzly holoprojection. "I have no idea what's going on right now." He murmurs, frustrated enough to complain ... yet smart enough to let the techies try to sort it out.
Against what could be better judgment, Skystalker is transfixed on the lens as it folds and swirls from one of them to the next. The audio and hologram startle him somewhat, the sound and sight causing him to jerk back, one hand up, guarded, before it drops. He listens.
"That's the name of them, the Amazodians? The colony that was here." Skystalker is hesitant to move any closer to the pedestal, but he does bring his feet together and remains in view of it. "So they've gone, but they're alive? I heard that right, didn't I?"
Pipes' hand still rests upon a dormant cable, but he's only paying attention now to the disk, and the visions within, and the mysterious speaker from the past. He can make out some of the images from where he is, fellow crew members, but he doesn't see himself. Yet? He feels drawn towards it, but Mercy's question pulls him back. "I guess they're gone? The colonists? But they don't sound sad about it. Maybe it's all right that the titan is like this ..."
Blast Off stares as images of...HIM?! pop into the sphere. Violet optics shine, pale and transfixed, as he watches the scene with Onslaught and his optic ridges twitch even as his ventilation cycles seem to slow. Then suddenly he's a wine shop owner- he blinks and jerks his head slightly back, much more pleased with that imagery but wishing to know what happened to Onslaught, then another of him running.... The Combaticon straightens, glancing at the others and mumbling with a jerk of his thumb towards the sphere, "N-now I *wouldn't* carry on like that, weeping and gnashing and then all that running away... that's obviously just some particularly strange universe. Universes. O-or maybe an entirely fake one just meant to make us Combaticons look weak..." he mumbles... and then his optics snap like glue right back to the scenes to watch the rest of this with a keen eye. He's silent for a moment, then asks, "Wait... how do you make it go back?" He leans in to the sphere and commands it like his imperious voice will simply /will/ it to do as he wishes. "Show me that scene with Onslaught again."
Once the projection stops talking, Brainstorm turns to face the group to answer the question several of them posed in one way or another "They jumped to other realities. The fabric of space-time is really thin in this area, so they probably found a way to cut through it completely and cross over. That" he waves at the disk "just showed us some of those realities" he glances around the room. Everyone follow that, or does he need to dumb it down some more?
Grimlock grunts at Blast Off. "Nobody cares about you." He growls. This done, Grimlock shifts his attention to Brainstorm, mostly managing to pick up on the super science wierdness he's talking about. "That sounds bad. A bunch of craven scavengers shouldn't have a ... whatever that thing is. How do we blow it up?"
"They went to other versions of here," Mercy seems startled by that before she settles back onto her heels. "Huh." What else is there to say, really? Oh, right...what Grimlock said. "Or disable it without hurting anyone."
Pipes wanders over to the disk, somewhat mesmerized. Certainly Grimlock can watch the door. "Other realities?" he asks to no one in particular as he creeps to the dais. Wonder what all the other Pipeses are doing?
"That sounds ridiculous, but for some reason I believe every word of it." Skystalker looks to Brainstorm with a faint smile, brow bent and troubled still. In another world or two he was such a different breed. It won't be leaving his memory anytime soon. To Grimlock he just frowns before looking to Mercy and running a hand up along the smooth lines at the back of his neck. "If not take it with us. It may need the titan to function regardless."
With Skystalker stepping back, this seems to activate the lens once more. It went dormant but now with Brainstorm close it resumes to showing various other versions of him. Like one that is removing his own head to set down and begin tinkering with it.
Grimlock'ls concern becomes reality as indeed a filthy organic has pursued. That dressy red alien from before is there, marching on the giant robot as the green fog has cleared somewhat. He peels off a gas mask to toss aside so he can point a finger at Grimlock and then at all of you in turn. He screams, "VIOLATORS1"
He explains himself. "It was my ancestors that first discovered this salvage and it was my family that hold claim to it! This, all of this belongs to the Vortar Estate! You will vacate at once for all of this is, by right, mine!"
The imagines of Brainstorm vanish as Pipes draws near. The disk clouds, swirls, and then ... keeps swirling. Finally it stops amd shows... Pipes, this Pipes. Just the one looking ayt the disk, reflection looking back.
But suddenly the only thing to be seen onthe lens is the mimage that Blast Off wanted to see, since he is touching the sphere. The image becomes only that of !BO holding a dead Onslaught. Around him more bots are fighting in what looks to be an all out Combaticon/Wrecker war.
Taking notice of the disk flashing though he can't see of what, Heir Vortar points at the disk. " Get away from there! Stop touching that."
Grimlock oh heys! Here's something to distract him from possibly destroying ancient Cybertonian artifacts. He notes the little red creature having his fit, and then- with a degree of subtlety one wouldn't expect from a Dinobot, moves to put himself between Mr. Vortar and the big door he came in from.
"Hey." Grim rumbles. "Hey you." And then there's a little roll of his neck. "You come alone?"
"Blow it up?" Brainstorm stares at Grimlock as if the Dinobot suggest they start eating protoforms "We are not blowing it up!" normaly, Brainstorm has nothing against blowing things up, but this is far too fascinating to just blow up "Just give me some time to study it. I have a feeling I can make it work outside of here so we can take it with us"
Wen the organic walks in and starts laying claim to the titan, however, the engineer first gives him an annoyed look, then looks up at Grimlock again. If you ever felt like Grimlocking again...
Now Blast Off turns to stare at Brainstorm. "So that... *was* real?" Optics dart to the sphere, then off to the side as his hand comes up to gesture, palm out, another excuse. "But again, obviously that's a very *different* me than *me* and-" He's interrupted by Grimlock. HOW RUDE. The Combaticon pauses to give the Dinobot a glare and a huff.
Then suddenly there's an organic yelling at them. The Combaticon's scorn directs immediately to the creature. "I beg your *pardon*?? This metrotitan belongs to *us*. It is *our* kind, not /yours/." His voice drips disdain and his trigger finger twitches.
He is distracted once again by the image and turning to look- his head drops down and he suddenly clutches the sphere with both hands, eying it intensely. "What- what IS it? Can this history?... Past? present? Future?... be...stopped? Changed? How do we direct this thing, the view? I want to see more..." Wait, there's WRECKERS here too? Blast Off is torn between staring at the dead Onslaught and searching for a certain blue rotary Wrecker, or ex-Wrecker, he knows very well. "I *demand* answers!"
Skystalker is watching Pipes near the dais as the organic stranger comes screaming onto the scene. He watches long enough to see what the little bot sees, or rather-- doesn't see. It's enough to send some nerves racing. What does that even mean? But now they don't have time to wonder. Between Grimlock threatening squishy things and Blast Off going kind of crazy with the sphere, there's a moment spent at a loss. Then Skystalker moves to try and take the Combaticon by his wrist, fingers slender but strong. "Blast Off!" His even voice fills receptors, presence hard to ignore. "Calm yourself, and step away from that thing. Nothing good will come of obsession."
So there's some guy yelling about something, but Pipes is too intent on the disk to care. His focus is total as he leans in, and sees swirls, and swirls ... and then himself. Well, that was expected, but this is he himself, apparently. He wiggles his head and waves. Yup. "There's me, sure, but where are ..." he trails off as the vision cuts to Blast Off. Pipes leans back. How come he didn't get to see his alternates? Aren't there any? Then a thought occurs to him, and the room is in a tunnel, and the disk recedes away, and he staggers.
"Pipes!" Mercy darts forward and reaches a hand out to try and support Pipes as he staggers. 'What's wrong?" she asks, concern etched on her face.
Heir Vortar faces off against the much larger Grimlock. "Of course I did! This claim is mine to assert you death bringing plaguebeast! You and all of your kind have no right to anything, all of the death you have caused across the cosmos! It is only fitting others profit from your waste! All you machines are good for is prtofit and killi-..." He stops himself there. "Oh," is all he says, eyes going wide as he starts to back out of here. "I hope you have a good lawyer," he chides as a parting shot before he turns and marches away. Quickly.
At the sphere, as Blast Off gets more worked up the image on the disk starts to fade. Just as as blue helicopter drops down from above, gun in *hand* as that gets pointed at the back of !BO's head... and it swirls too much to show anything clearly.
Grimlock , to his credit, does not kill a defenseless organic in cold blood. Even if he could totally get away with it. Still, had he a mouth in this mode, Grimlock would no doubt smile. There's a reflexive flex of his massive fingers, but he keeps his natural rage in check ... for now.
"ALRIGHT." Grimlock bellows, glaring at the other mechs present. "EVERYBODY OUT! Brainstorm, grab the shiny thing! Everyone else, MOVE! We're locking this behind us!" And Grimlock storms out and sets about 'locking' the corridor down, mostly by mashing an index finger the size of a small field artillery piece into the control panel at random. One of those buttons is the lock, right?
<FS3> Grimlock rolls Command: Success. (3 2 3 7 5 6 2)
"I *AM* calm," Blast Off says, sounding anything but. "I just have to see-" Then Skystalker actually *touches* him. The chilled energy of the room has nothing to compare to the chilled energy that bristles through the Combaticon at the touch, his hand jerking up and away, slapping the other spacemech in an instinctive defensive reaction. His other hand still grips the sphere and he stares at it as a familiar blue figure drops down... except wait, was that a *HAND*? The shuttleformer ignores the organic completely, turning his back towards Skystalker. "Let me finish!" Arrgh, wait, it's fading... he starts shaking the sphere impatiently.
Suddenly Grimlock bellows a command. He stops to look up at the massive Dinobot, glances to Brainstorm- back to the sphere -and sighs. He begins to head out but if Brainstorm tries to take the sphere he won't stop him. He probably /will/ try to stop anyone else though- just in case that imagery comes back.
Pipes lets Mercy support him as the room drifts back to his optics. "There weren't any other mes. Just this me. What does that mean?" He looks into Mercy's optics, searching for the answer. Grimlock's command breaks through his swoon, and wordlessly he'll comply, either with help or under his own power.
"It means you're one of a kind," Mercy replies without missing a beat, tone gentle and warm. "Come on...let's go." She reaches to wrap an arm around her friend.
The kneejerk strike from Blast Off has Skystalker taking a step backwards, his hand lifted to where the shuttle's limb connected at his cheekbone's flange. There's no cry of surprise, though, just a cold, rigid, unsettling distance when he looks back up to Blast Off's wings facing him. Grimlock's voice reaches him last, and the starfighter is the last one to file after the rest, eyes half downturned as he steps a few paces behind.
"I can't just grab it Brainstorm protests when Grimlock orders the withdrawl "I don't even know what to grab! It might not work without the support mechanisms! I mean, I can figure it out, but I need a little more time for that" he's not arguing with the need to grab it. He just wants to grab it properly. Plus, there's so much he wants to see in here!
And then Blast Off does the grabing instead, and Brainstorm steps after the Combaticon "Hey! careful with that! You might damage it! Give it here" he holds out his hand insistantly.
Grimlock 's shoulders rise and fall in a grumbly sigh- ancient Metrotitan relics are way, WAY outside his wheelhouse. And so, as Blast Off scurries off with the sphere, Grimlock casually reaches over and *WRENCHES* the lens-thing from its mounting! This done, Grimlock stompstompstomps out of the chilled chamber- and he *SLAMS!* his fist on the control panel once everyone's out, attempting to seal it back shut!
"EVERYONE BACK TO THE SHIP." He half orders, half-threatens.