2016-02-28 Time's Up

From Transformers: Lost and Found

Time's Up
Date 2016/02/29
Location Hubworld
Participants Cyclonus, Tailgate, Whirl
NPCs !Whirl, !First Aid, !Brainstorm
Plot Colony: Hubworld
Scene GM Chromia
Summary Three Lost Lighters come upon a crime in progress, and someone familiar behind it.

Hubworld has erupted into all kinds of chaos, most of which is rapidly getting blamed on the Lost Light and those that arrived on it. Rogue Cybertronians are rampaging through the remains of the deceased Metrotitan Amazodon, such as here at a fortified Galactic Council banking building. The front of the establishment is in rubble and what organics were near are running away in all directions. Through the smoke and debris at least one figure can be seen moving around inside.

For the moment what Galactic Council authorities that are on site are attempting to pull others back and to call for backup. Yet the layout of the dorman station has shifted, the auto-defenses of the dead Titan activating to have reconfigured all aboard, which leaves the closest responders to be...

THE SECURITY SQUAD. Cyclonus and Tailgate were hanging out together around Hubworld, at least. Before this whole mess started. Now he's left moving swiftly, one eye on Tailgate and his fingers curved around the hilt of his Great Sword. He's been remarkable short on comments for the situation apart from an overall resignation. Of /course/ there's trouble again.

Whirl has been exploring Hubworld the best way he knows how: barhopping. He's sort of moseying around looking for the next bar when the destroyed building and chaos around it catches his attention. He stares at the organics freaking out and calling desperately for help, then looks down the way at a nearby bar. He looks back at the rubble.. then back to the bar. This happens a few more times before he finally sighs. "Okay! Okay! Geez.." He wanders up to the closest organic and says, in a tone that suggests he'd rather be doing something else, "What's going on? Do you need help? Blah blah.."

Tailgate has been feeling some large dose of guilt-- or something like it-- over what's happening to Amazodon. Grimlock may have been the one that started the first plan, but he, a commanding officer, took part in it! allowed it! And now, with the return of the Future Lens to Cybertronian hands, and the ensuing chaos brought on by the titan's shifting-- well, suffice to say it doesn't look good for them, does it?

"Scrap, Wasn't there a street there?" Tailgate mutters as he trots onward with Cyclonus towards the sounds of chaos. Again. Of course, again, who did you think they were? People that behaved themselves!? He has his slingshot in one hand, freshly upgraded, and another hand up to knock at his com receptors.

"Get a handle on your companions, robot!" The organic that Whilr speaks to h=looks very put out as soon as he is addressed. "They are in there no doubt to steal the shanix we mined out of this pace! It outrs by right! You have to stop them before they steal it a-..."

This is cut off by another exlosion, in another part of the wall. From it steps Brainstorm, though not the one you are familiar with. Yellow and coppery orange, he is without afaceplate and brandishes twn pistols (es the pinkies ar eout). Beside him is a first aid, black where he would be white and green where he would be red, carrying two large cases. "Remind me why we need this stuff again/:

"What we have is xinahs," Not Brainstorm explains, sounding frustrated to do so. "In this universe, we need this currency. (more)

Behind them steps another mech, one wearing a face that is no longer in use in this universe. In his hands he holds an inticate timepiece which he checks. "Fourteen seconds. Two less than budgeted," he doles out praise. Mostly maroon purple and other Shockwaven accents, this time keeper looks to be more concerned with keepinghis squad on pacethan where he is headed. "Time to secure our shuttle and rendez-vous. Let us be ahead of the others."

"You are always ahead of schedule. Don't know what you are worrying about, Whirl," not Brainstorm says. This is when he looks up to see real Whirl. "We have company," he states as he fires without any other warning at the Wrecker.

"Err, screw you, buddy," is Whirl's immediate response to the organic. As if it's his job to keep tabs on every Cybertronian out there. He brings up an arm to shield himself from any debris the next explosion brings and then lowers it to see.. Brainstorm? And.. First Aid? Except.. not really?? Just when he thinks things couldn't get weirder he sees another mech except this one is...

"HOLY SHIT!" Whirl gawks (or at least he tries to, hard to do without a face) and poits at this other Whirl with a claw. "HOOOOOLLLYYYY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

But he only gets to gawk for so long when Not!Brainstorm starts shooting at him. Welp, he has no choice now. Whirl cracks off a few shots in retaliation from his chest cannons.

For a moment, Cyclonus is ready to lower his sword at the sight of Brainstorm rounding the corner, but his gaze swiftly takes in all of the very different details -- and the /guns/ -- of both him and First Aid following up. That -- is not right. He doesn't recognize this new Whirl at all, which leaves him startling when the name comes up. "Yes," he says to Brainstorm's words. "You do." Oh no, he's shooting at Whirl. Oh. That's -- too bad. (Oh, Tailgate is watching, he better actually do something.) "I would suggest you desist."

"Whoa-- uh--" Tailgate screeches to a stop on his heels beside Cyclonus, visor as wide as its ever been when he sees ...Brainstorm? remove himself from the wreckage of the bank, guns drawn. Since when does he-- And First Aid? For a moment he is caught in sheer confusion, gaze catching further back on... Whirl, they said? The Wrecker's cries nearby say a lot, but do nothing for Tailgate's flabbergasted state. He grinds his heels in some more when Cyclonus gives his order, one hand gripping on the slingshot and tugging back on its energy band. "Give it up, whoever you are!"

"Giving up means going back, which isn't happening," !Brainstorm says to Tailgate as he turns his attention to the small one. "Not as augmented as ours and neat toy. Looks like an amateur made it. Please tell me that wasn'lt other men," he groans. He points his pistols at Tailgate. "Try mine," he smiles and fires. The bullets literally scream loudly as they come at Tailgate.

"Ugly one is mine!" !First aid seems all too happy to lay claim to whirl. "Looks like walking salvage!" He draws out his wired clamps as he charges in, raw voltage sparking between them. "He'll be good for pieces!"

"Let us hope you are faster than our Cyclonus," !Whirl says to the sword-weilder. "It takes him 0.035 seconds to swing his blade." Without warning he flicks his pocket watch out, meaning to catch Cyclonus in theface with it before he can strike.

Cyclonus twists back from the pocket watch thrown at his face, because you NEVER KNOW. It might be a watch. It might be an /explosive/ watch. But then he leaps forward again, sword swinging in a glittering arc towards Not!Whirl's remarkably expressive face.

"Hey! I'll have you know that some people consider me very attractive!" Whirl exclaims, backpedaling rapidly as First Aid comes charging at him with those scary, electrified clamps he's weilding. He fires off another few rounds from his canopy mounted canons, not wanting to get close enough to find out what those clamps are all about.

"...Augmented?" Tailgate's confusion verbalizes, and his visor sparks when the guns train on him instead. He tucks and darts quick to the side just as !Brainstorm fires on him. As he tries to jump out of the line of fire, his intention is to untuck from the roll and lift his slingshot to fire back. Toy, huh!?

Not!Whirl ... shakes hsi head. "Inefficient. Leaping reduces your attack speed y a factor of 0.14." Not!Whirl steps back, reaching behind him to draw forth two of his rotors. Where they would be used as a helicopter, in his PERFECTLY GOOD HANDS they become a pair of swords. Now it is his time to swing at Cyclonus, one low at the legs and another high at the face.

Not!first Aid runs at Whirl with glee in his vosor at the thought of pulling this ugly chicken apa-... "Ow!" and then "Ow!: as the shots spin him one way then the other. He goes down, sobbing. "How... why... I'm the little guy," he wails.

Not!Brainstorm doesn'lt explain himself. Instead he transforms and barrels in, flying right into Tailgate before he transforms again. His guns press to Tailgate's head. "Don'lt bother surrendering."

Yes! Whirl is such a good shot, Not!First Aid goes down after only a few hits. He clearly doesn't think highly of First Aid's ability as a combatant because he doesn't consider this unusual and assumes he's already won this fight. Being the cocky little shit he is, he saunters over to the fallen alternate First Aid and plants a foot down hard on his chest. "How? Magnificently. Why? Because fuck you, that's why." He shifts his chest in a way to give him a clear shot at the mech pinned underneath him. "But hey, maybe if you beg me, I'll only cripple you instead of outright killing you!"

Cyclonus twists, trying a little to evade but mostly trying to force his way in closer to Not!Whirl to take advantage of the full weight and power of his Great Sword. He does not banter back, because he is not as fun an opponent as Whirl. Or even Tailgate. Sad.

Tailgate's off hand is pinned under his hips as Brainstorm charges in and knocks him flat. His vocalizer staticks with a short growl of noise, defiant even when the guns press to his head, his visor flooded with blue. "Who are you!? You're not Brainstorm!" Tailgate doesn't wait for an answer-- he pulls his leg back and kicks mightily at !Brainstorm's knee to knock him over. NGH!

Not!First Aid's tune changes immediately as he is pinned. "Cripple. What a good idea." Just like that the field medic moves, touching Whilr at the knee and with a few flicks of the wrist, expertly done, his master of anatomy allow him to remove all the pins that keep that leg together. Slipping out as Whirl loses that leg, those greedy fingers grab for Whirl'ls face, fingers now going straight for that eye light. "Maybe I'll take your vocalizer last so that you can beg me!"

Not!Whirl has to stagger back from the strength of Cyclonus' blows, but even that is accountable for his advance. "Would it that Rodimus would allow me to nstitute my functionist ideals so that tedious field work like this would be beneath me." deflecting Cyclonus' last attack, he stabs forth with his other blade, right for the eye.

Not!Brainstorm looks very surprised as Tailgate kicks him off! He tumbles away and comesto a stop in a rather undignified heap. "Someone that should have been smart enough to have seen that coming," he grumbles as he pushes to get back up.

Cyclonus chokes a guttural noise as Not!Whirl's blade slices across his optic. He stumbles back, his vision flickering on one side, and then growls in a low rumble and aims a slice right across the other bot's chestplate towards his spark.

Whirl cocks his head to the side at the change in Not!First Aid's tone. "Eh?" That's all he gets to say before he finds his leg disassembled from right underneath him. "What the hell!?" He hops backwards on one foot but doesn't get very far when his one and only optic is grabbed at. "Ha! Hahahaha!" Still hopping on one foot to keep his balance, Whirl swings his arms around to claw and stab at First Aid in an attempt to dislodge him before he loses his sight. "I didn't beg when the DJD tortured me and I'm sure as shit not going to beg you either!"

The moment that Tailgate gets a clear space overhead, guns away from his brain casing, the minibot revs his insides and leaps up and at !Brainstorm, shifting into his altmode as he flings himself into that ramming lunge. Huge? No-- Scrappy!

Not!Whirl might talk a good gameabout his functionist ideals but there is much enjoyment on his face (he has one) when his blow strikes Cyclonus's eye. That distraction and the sheer might at the swing that Cyclonus levels on him has Not!Whirl scrambling. He gets one blade there, only to have it sever and that Great Sword slices his chest open. He staggers back, dropping his cut sword to hold hisopen chest. "Autobots, remember why we are here! Brainstorm, now."

Not!First aid is so giddy about what he is doing that he doesn'lt see the arm coming for him. "Those wimps?! We keep killing them and yet they keep coming back, SOOOO annoying!" He finishes that when he's batted away, nimble fingers having field stripped Whirl's optic that fast.

Not!Brainstorm growls as he is commanded to, as he would much prefer to do his own thing. Which is when het gets slammed into and thus goes tumbling. "Again!?" Once more he lands in an undignified heap. Yet instead of a gun he holds out a device, which he depresses a button on. "Can't believe I am calling in the calvary." The rush of rocketfire can almost immediate be heard rushing this way.

Losing an eye when you have two of them is bad enough, losing one when it's the only one you have is even worse. Now Whirl is not only hopping around on a single chicken leg, but he's doing it blind as well. "UGH, YOU'RE ANNOYING!" he snaps, frustrated by his new disabilities. He swings his claws wildly in Not!First Aid's general direction, hoping to hit some part of him. "I finally get to see my face for the first time in millenia AND YOU RIP OUT MY EYE? FUCK YOU!"

Cyclonus does not let up his advantage: when Whirl staggers back and tries to hold his open chest, Cyclonus presses forward, slicing again while he has an even larger opening. Oh is Brainstorm doing something oops.

"Calvary this!" Tailgate jumps on top of !Brainstorm and brings his fist back to punch him right in his stupid !Brainstorm face. The device is coming second, apparently. Maybe he'll have time to punch it too.

Not!Whirl is prepared to get further away from Cyclonus, but he is slowed. It is with a look of horrow on his face that he has calculated just how much time he needs to get away from the attack that is coming; and he does not have enough. The hand that held his opened chest now clutches his face as he curls away. "Aaaarrrrrgggh!" Maybe the blind among you knows exactly what this sounds like.

Not!First aid rolls to a stop after being clobbered, again, by Whirl. Panic sets in though as he looks up to see !Whirl recoil in pair. The doctor in his takes off and he drops Whirl's eye to race to !Whirl'ls aid. He spits a shower of dangerous sparks at Cyclonus to keep him at bay.

"Forget him, grab the shan-..!" Not!Brainstorm doesn'lt get to say much more before he is punched in the face! A non-faceplate face!

Streaking into the area are six Legislator-like drones, ones that... don'lt go for the Lost Lighters, but immediately land at and start grabbing the organics. Theirheads tilt back, opening, as the goldren drones start stuffing their innards with screaming fleshlings that are too slow to get away.

Cyclonus falls short in many areas, but he can count, and six more opponents are not favorable odds, especially with Whirl short several important pieces. He steps back from the shower of sparks !First Aid shoots at him and turns to Tailgate. "We should go," he calls in a harsh snap.

Whirl starts laughing like a maniac when his claws make contact with Not!First Aid and he just keeps swinging in an attempt to land as many hits as possible. Eventually he's just punching at the air and he growls with frustration. "HEY! GET BACK HERE AND LET ME KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He hops forwards, his optic cracking underneath the weight of his foot but it's impossible to hear over the chorus of organic screaming. "Can someone describe to me what the hell is going on right now!?"

Tailgate goes from his punch to grabbing at the device in Brainstorm's hand. It is now that he looks up as the legislator-mechs come sweeping in. They don't come for them, they--

"NO!" Tailgate's vocalizer fries when he screams, somewhere between horror and rage. Maybe he doesn't hear Cyclonus. Whether or not he's freed the device from Brainstorm's clutches, he tries to do what he can to call them off. Something, anything-- smash it, if nothing else happens when he starts mashing buttons. "MAKE THEM STOP!"

It is !Brainstorm'ls turn to push Tailgate off him, content tolet the little helion have the devise if it will mean stopping the minibot from showing him up. With Tailgate preoccupied he transforms and jets off to his companions, where already !First aid is struggling to put !Whirl's face back together. "Get on, both of you. We don'lt have enough of your precious time," he chides the wounded !Whirl.

Both !First Aid and !Whirl listen to reason, doing so. But before !Brainstorm jets off he turns, contemplating one fly by at that dropped stash of shanix.

The golden drones do not respond to Tailgate's button pushing or mashing. What Whirl hears is a scrambling scream of panic as those things lumber after all the little fleshlings that flee from them. They remain mindless towards the Lost Lighters as they seek to scoop up and collect what organic life they can.

"Holy crap, it sounds like some kind of nightmarish hell in here," Whirl comments as he continues to hop around like an idiot, chaos unwraveling all around him. "Cyclonus! Tailgate! You guys still around? Should I be running away from something??" He karate chops at the air just in case.

"There are drone bots who are eating the organics," Cyclonus informs Whirl in a flat voice as he watches the Not!Lost Lighters make their escape. "It does not look like they have plans to attack us, but--" But. That's kind of not cool, and so Cyclonus throws himself into the fray to slice and dice.

"We're here, Whirl-- Just hold on! We have to--" Tailgate feels his spark pulsing and throbbing in his whole frame, drumming in his head and visor leaving streaks of aqua in the air when he drops the device, forgets about !Brainstorm, and breaks into a flat run at the nearest drone, slingshot lifted and pulled back as far as his servos can take it. It explodes against the golden plating at its head, sending the insides ablaze in a spark of slagging metal.

By the end of the time they spend fighting off the drones, the slingshot itself will be in a state of immense overheat, slagged into an unusable state, grooved and melted under Tailgate's grip, the underside of his palm flaked and burnt through.

Not-Brianstorm decides to go for it. "Hold on," he barks at his passengers. He rushes forward, jetting towards those crates of harvested shanix from whatever sources they were pulled out of here on Amazodon... which is when a wild karate chop hits his wing! There is a loud yelp of panic from all three !LLers as !Brainstorm is sent tumbling, rolling and otherwise spinning way off course through the air. Just like that they disappear down a corridor, all of their attempted gains left behind.

In their wake, fighting back-to-back, are Cyclonus and Tailgate. Around them will be the broken remains of those golden drones, hacked and slagged, but all ultimately rendered inert and the gather organics that had been inside now crawling out. Oh, and Whirl, judo chopping the air.

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