2016-06-01 The Inevitable 250

From Transformers: Lost and Found

2016-06-01 The Inevitable 250
Date 2016/06/01
Location Delta - Velocitron
Participants Breakdown, Knock Out, Lieutenant, Mirage, Penchant, Ravage, Skystalker, Soundwave, Starstruck
NPCs Clocker, Override, Ransack
Plot Colony: Velocitron
Scene GM Mia
Summary All of Delta's inhabitants have turned up to watch the race which will determine their leader on the account that a Cybertronian will be racing in Override's place. So simple, what could possibly go wrong?

Today is the Inevitable 250, a race of the top racers of all of Velocitron with the outcome determining who shall lead the Velocities until the next I-250. Delta is alive with even greater energy than the Lost Lighters witnessed yesterday as the excitement for the race is everywhere. It'ls all bots talk about; it'ls what the entire city has turned out to watch. For a city normally filled with activity, now today it is all concentrated here in the original arena. There is a constant chorus of cheers for the two competitors, the reigning Override and the even louder cheering for the ex-ruling champion, Ransack.

However, Override is unable to compete due to an injury that has left her leg in disrepair. Due to the generous repair work the Cybertronians did to the elder track, the people of Delta have allowed their ruler to appoint one of these visotrs as her champion. Thus racing in her stead is the shiny, the dashing Knock Out.

Ransack has opted to have no champion stand for him. he is a tall lean bot of blues and blacks, with a styish hood ornament for 'hair' which flaps about gloriously in the winds that rush over the still track. (more)

Knock Out is buffed. Knock Out is /so/ buffed. He's standing and waiting for the race, chin tipped up so that the lights glint off the sleek lines of his frame to their best advantage. His smugness has been positively suffocating since he was chosen, to the point where he's gone right past chattering about his superiority to the even more vain display of relative quiet that comes from not even having to say it.

It's absolutely, one hundred percent insufferable.

His gaze slides along to those who have been identified as his opponents for the race, his gaze haughty and smirking as he finds them positively lacking.

Situated in a booth overlooking the track is Override and with her an honored pair of guests; Soundwave and Ravage. Since the two are without vehicle modes the safest place for them is removed from others, as the scorn for their lack of wheels pallpable. Override does a diserve to herself to have them close, but with the attack and gunfire yesterday the least she wants to do is stir up undue trouble. Before the race is set to begin another bot joins them, a small guy of blue with a red head. "All preparations have been made," Clocker says to Override.

In the stands is a flurry of cars, trucks and other Deltans, nearly all in alt modeas they dash about in a pre-race frenzy. Invited to be with them are Skystalker and Mirage, two Cybertronians that the locales have taken great fancy to.%rIn the pit crew area are Lietenant and Penchant, a 'safe place' for them to be, though it is down in the middle of the track. Rumors of the races of Delta involve a lot of bumping, crashing and sometimes even death. If a race gets exciting enough.

At the announcer booth is Breakdown, along with Ransack'ls man Throttle. It is customary for the I-250 to include a barking, a pitch from spokesmen from each champion. As Override struggles to stand to signal for them to begin, Throttle grabs the mic to start his pitch but Ransack dashes forward to grab it. "Let's make Velocitron great again!" He shouts this to the approving roar of the crowd before he then drops the mic at Breakdown's feet.

Breakdown is basically here to be a cheering section. His only regret is that he hasn't had time to make a big placard. "Damn it," he tells Starstruck, who is totally here with him to kibitz with, right, "why didn't we bring a spotlight on this away mission? We should totally have brought a spotlight on this away mission."

"Dude, right?" Starstruck is all tense, tight plating in his excitement. "Though your hubby kind of generates his own spotlight." This is said in complete sincerity; Knock Out is fucking AWESOME, and the chance to see him race is not one Star wants to waste.

Spending time here on Velocitron has been-- interesting, to say the least. Skystalker's wings are something that seem to draw curious eyes and hands right to him; he manages to not become too insulted by the latter, especially when questions turn into tactile examinations. He must be polite and tell them to bugger off in the nicest way possible. It doesn't stop the attractive spacer from gathering a bit of an entourage on the way into the race stands from town, much to his dismay. Why do people respond to being told off? Who knows.

Skystalker flew in on those sleek wings, and landed with virtually a whisper amongst the rambunctiousness. Now he has adopted his root mode again, wingtips splayed behind him as he remains near to Mirage, the other Cybertronian spectator in the stands.

Oh, is that a microphone? Breakdown picks it up and eyes it for a moment. For a second it looks like what the big one-eyed bot is thinking about doing involves hauling off and punching the other guy in the head, regardless of what everything everyone has told him about appropriately diplomatic behavior. The next thing he looks like he's thinking about doing it is hand it off to Starstruck since Starstruck is clearly the one of the two of the Decepticons standing together who knows about how to raise the roof, etc. Then he kind of shrugs and goes, "Yer pal Override got taken down with some dirty scrap--" what was that about not swearing? "--so we're here today to show you colony kids how we get it done in the Cybertron circuit. So guess what, that means you're all gonna eat Knock Out's dust. Yeah, he's gonna lap you squirts. Go get 'em, looker."

Mirage is (slightly) grumpy about being outdone. But then again, he doesn't envy his companion. After all, at least he isn't the one being touched without permission. As Skystalker flies in, creating quite the display, he quirks an optic ridge at them. "Must you?" he remarks. After all, it's difficult to watch the race if their neighbors are jostling them instead.

Penchant doesn't mind the arrangement in the center of the track, as the view is pretty sweet, though he must stand and rock up on his toes to keep it. Eventually he just wiggles his way to the fore of the seating area, to lean over the barrier. If it becomes a splash zone he can just duck under the rowdy racing fans that flank him. "Ever been to one of these, Lieu? I mean, back home?"

He may not have wheels, but just look at how sleek and nimble Ravage is! Okay, they probably still don't care, but that's hardly his issue. The facination over him was slightly annoying, but if he could use the novelty over him to his advantage so be such. He had his reasons for wanting to keep a close watch around Override, after his excursion during the night cycle tracking those drones into the older depths of the city. He had potentially learned a thing or two... but so far, it was only suspicions and theory, lacking too many solid details or reliable evidence. Soundwave would sense an equal amount of aggitation and anticipation from his trusted cybercat, typical of when he started to dig his claws into something potentially bigger... Red optics narrow slightly at Clocker's arrival in Override's stand, tail giving a faint twitch around his back paws. But a scrutinizing glower from the cybercat of others he did not know wasn't unusual.

Starstruck is giving a crooked smile of interest when Breakdown picks up the microphone. What's he gonna say? Star does, surprisingly, catch that second of 'maybe I should hand this over', though not fast enough to act on it. Which is for the best, clearly, when Breakdown speaks and -

"Oh shit!" Star whoops once Breakdown is done, clapping a servo on the bulkier bot's shoulder. "That was fucking awesome, dude!" Was there a no swearing rule? Oh well.

Knock Out frowns as Skystalker alits and earns some of the attention that is /his/. It's /his/ attention, Skystalker! It's his moment!! << Ex/cuse/ you, >> he snaps over the comms at the flyer. For existing, one presumes. At least /Breakdown/ is behaving appropriately; he smiles beatifically over in the direction of his beau with his mic.

Lieutenant should be paying attention to the one goings, but he's a bit distracted with a datapad he had found earlier. He only glances at Penchant when he speaks, "Once, but I did not stay for the whole thing." he replies simply, "Blurr was the obvious winner." The avian notes the minibot standing and kneels down. "I understand if you would rather not, but you might get a better view from higher up." Yes, he's offering Penchant to climb him.

Soundwave does not care what the Deltans think. In fact, they fuel a fire within him. One heated by the rage of injustice. It is hard not to have the old feelings stir. He is standing, looking down at the track and those that are here, Laserbeak on his shoulder- Buzzsaw is sulking within him over being unable to make art out those drones. He'll live. Stiff and impassive, unyeilding amongst all the excitement and rambunctiousness. He watches everyone, listening for trouble. He patiently plans for the worst. His cool gaze shifts to look at Clocker and then Override and finally Ravage- the latter mostly to show his annoyance at the nonsensical posturing. Its as superfuluous as articles. He goes back to looking at the track. "Clocker." He greets. No, the mech didn't give his name nor did Override tell him. Hmm... So much preening and vanity and ego and noise.

The crowd bursts into cheer for Ransack and then open boos for Knock Out, though that fades to silence as the fascination of what a cybertronian can do circulates like wildfire. Half the crowd starts to chant for Knock Out, causing the other half to chant for Ransack.

In those stands, around Skystalker and Mirage, are an especially loud group of ransack supporters. They cry out for 'losers to be left behind!l and 'let losers burn!'. Pushing past them though is one bot, who bumps into Mirage. He drops a device that he is quick to pick up, one with a red button on it, as he then hurries to stalk past. No one around even notices, what with Skystalker here! Those with hands are eager to fondle wings. Some even sport (useless) ones as decoration now.

At the track, from their vantage point, they can spot... movement under the tracks! A pair of black-painted bots skulk by, with no other pit crewer the wiser.

In the announcer booth, as soon as Breakdown is finished, Throttle gestures for Breakdown and Starstruck to sit with one hand. As he sits, there in his other is a rivet gun. A modified one. "I trust you have radio contact with your pretty red friend," he whispers.

Override is absolutely smitten with birds now! Ravage is forgotten as she attempts tocoax Buzz to her lap. Clocker meanwhile shifts uncomfortably, smelling of tires - a scent that will mean something to someone. "So," he meekly asks Soundwave, "What's it like to be useless?" Override is too preoccupied to chastise him. (more)

<FS3> Breakdown rolls Watchdog: Good Success. (7 2 8 7 2 1 5 2)

On the racetrack, Ransack dashes over to Knock Out and grins, showing sparkly teeth. "There was a time when I was like you. Too bad," he glances up to where Override sits, "Like the past, you will be," and then as Override idly waves a hand, he is quick to shove Knock Out backwards. He leaps forward, transforming into a drag racer and tears off, "Forever behind me!"

<FS3> Mirage rolls Reaction+reaction: Good Success. (7 8 2 5 3 2 4 7)
<FS3> Mirage rolls Stealth: Good Success. (7 5 5 7 5 2 8 1 3 6 1 3)

Breakdown sits. He sprawls. He takes up as much space as possible in the wide thrust of his legs, crowding blithely into Throttle in his best and most unintimidated fashion. "Why," he purrs, his voice a low rumble, his eye a bright gleam of narrowed yellow. His heavy frame is all contained menace, a threat spoken only in the language of utter unconcern. "You want me to send a message?"

"What, you expected me to walk around down here?" Skystalker suffers any disdain from Mirage with remarkable patience and a half-smile, the splay of his wings a spined warning to anyone wanting to come up behind him, the thrusters along his back pointed outward in a secondary note of caution. Look. Don't touch. Any handsiness in the stands earn a short glare. "I'd have been run over the moment I got to the facility." He is a little more silent when Knock Out admonishes him, listening in on his comms and considering his options. Stay silent, or--

Skystalker raises a fist in solidarity, letting out a short whoop at the racers. "Go Knock Out! Kick his tailpipes!" Right in the middle of the enemy, so to speak. Good.

Red optics narrow even farther as certain scents reach his olfactory sensors. Even with the stench of grease and exhaust fumes that permutate the track that one scent sticks out like a big red light. Yet. Could it just be circumstance? Coincidence. Too many unknown details yet. Override is distracted by the birds instead. The cat continues to watch, scrutinize. The mech has his entire attention now, and if these colonists still regard him as just a 'thing' of Soundwave's, it's all the better for him. A spy prefers to have as little notice as possible.

The rail gun surprises Starstruck, though it really shouldn't have. This is so a classic scene out of every Bond movie he's ever watched. Optics blazing behind his visor, Star sits in the seat closest to Breakdown, his own sprawl more a personal style than any indication of threat. Doesn't mean he's not ready to pop up at any moment. He lets Breakdown take point for now, even as his plating tightens in an entirely different way from before. He's ready to back his fellow 'Con up if need be.

<FS3> Ravage rolls Observation: Failure. (6 4 3 3 2 3 6 4 2)

"Ugh," Knock Out says, giving Ransack a once over that manages to be absolutely unimpressed. "You were /never/ like me." And then the Velocitron has the audacity to touch him. /Touch him/! Knock Out is left for a split second looking aghast and disgusted, and then it transmutes into pure, murderous focus. He leaps into a transformation, wheels squealing as soon as they hit they ground as he takes off.

<FS3> Knock_Out rolls Transportation: Great Success. (6 3 3 8 2 6 3 6 8 7 8 3 8 6)

"Heh, I was going to ask you. Hup!" Penchant plants a boot on Lieutenant's knee and climbs up to sit atop his shoulders, mindful of the pointy wing kibble. As Ransack and Knock Out tear out, Pench squints at the moving shadows under the tracks. "You see that?" he murmurs.

Mirage doesn't answer. It's easy to imagine his answer gets lost in the roar of the crowd, but his attention is drawn by a movement out of the corner of his optic. Seeing the object falling, he reaches out to grab it, intending to give it back to the owner, but is surprised when they swoop in and carry it off so quickly. There is something in the way they move, the brief glimpse of the item he saw, that does not settle right with him.

"After that display? Possibly. You seem like the kind to make a scene," he replies. Barking those three last words like an order, he shifts to his pedes. Hopefully Skystalker gets the message so he can slip away unnoticed, investigating this stranger further.

Soundwave watches the track, neck cables tightening just slightly. Something is happening. Going to happen. With all the buzz, all the sensory input, and all the constant streams of eratic thought, he can't... It's just a feeling. A hunch? No, he doesn't do hunches. It's simply inevitable with them, he just knows it. But slowly, his helm turns, his visor a hard, searing red as it reflect an image of Clocker back to the mech. Incased within the inferno. "No one is useless." He reaches into Clocker's helm. Let's take a closer look, since he wants the Decepticon's attention so badly.

<FS3> Soundwave rolls Telepathy: Great Success. (1 5 8 1 4 8 1 5 5 1 6 5 1 7 8 6)
<FS3> Penchant rolls Mind Reading: Great Success. (1 5 7 3 5 7 6 8 3 1 8 3 8 3)

Who put an avian as pit crew? Knock Out is not going to need it and Lieutenant does not having tire changing as common knowledge. He assists Penchant up on his shoulders, and notes what his roommate does. "The racing is messing with my seismic sense, I cannot tell if that is a simply shadow, or /someone/."

The one that can answer Lieutenant'ls question is going to indeed be Penchant, who will get a blaring rush of thoughts of 'harm the outsider'! Whatever those two freshly painted mechs are up to, and what they are carrying, is meant to do *something* to Knock Out. They know that they need to get into place, especially now that the race has started! They vanish to parts unseen to those above. Perhaps if there was some way to track where they have gone under there...

In the stands, the crowd are all ready to do as Skystalker says because, hey! They adore him! Then he says *that*. "Ransack is a better leader!" "He's going to build a wall around Delta to keep all the losers out." "Yeah, our resources are ours!" "Make Delta great again!" They look ready to convince him of that. Past that though, Mirage is left unnoticed as the race is off. angling away from the watchers though this lone bot looks for a place to get a better view of the track, his eyes always looking (and glaring) to where Ransack is.

In the announcer'ls booth, Throttle chuckles. "That if he doesn't want you to get plugged, he'll slow down. Outsiders shouldn't be involved in our affairs. Tell him that if he wins, you die. If Ransack wins, he might die when we force you all out, but at least if he loses he can say goodbye." He jiigles his makeshift gun to get the point across.

<FS3> Mirage rolls Invisibility: Great Success. (8 1 1 2 5 8 8 2 3 4 8)
<FS3> Lieutenant rolls Seismic Sense: Success. (1 2 4 5 8 5 5 1 6 4)

Skystalker may not be used to taking barked orders, but when he hears one he can still recognize it, even disguised amidst Mirage's ornery sort of answer. Amber optics settle on him a moment, and he wonders how much of a scene.

"Is that right? Tell me about him!" Skystalker aims to draw attention with his verbal dubiousness, among all these Velocitronians. As the Race heats up at the start, Sky stands up from his chosen seat, wings spread and his arm-mounted guns crackling with bright plasma sparks when he holds both fists above his head, another cry coming from him, pulled up from a place he's tucked away. The track is much nicer, but he's been at a race before, regardless of his supported party. The color of the plasma reflects off of his armor, purple and blue and orange with heat, radiating light off of nearby spectators. A scene. You're welcome. He

Skystalker's cheering is just the distraction that Mirage needs, and he makes use of the helms turning in his direction to activate his cloaking. Even with all the cheering and distraction, he manages to fade from view. While it's possible a few optics in the crowd may have seen that, he knows from experience most mecha prefer to pretend such things are tricks of the light. After all, it's easier to face that than the reality of seeing what was never there. Who would believe in a disappearing mecha? He hopes the Velocitronians won't.

That done, he trails after the suspicious mecha. It's likely this whole thing is just a waste of time, but he knows not to ignore his instincts. Crouching in the stands, he settles in to watch what they do next.

Up with Override, clocker looks concerned as the Velo leader starts to look drowsy. he checks on her by touching her elbow again, which only causes her to nod off all the more. "This is a lie, Soundwave. It is Soundwave, is it not? There are some of us not worthy of the spotlight." His mind is awash with the history of Velocitron, how the races took over and changed his people. He knows it is not speed they crave but entertainment, which he has a plan to give them. To ravage, who stares and smells, there is something distractingly powerful on him; fresh golden paint on his fingertips.

On the track, Ransack chuckles as he pulls forw-... "Hey, you can'lt do that!" He is pissed when KO gets ahead of him! He rsorts to old tricks, angling to ram the Con from behind, wishing to spin his competition. He'll also try to take the outside track, wanting to push the outsider inward. "I was the first winner of Velocitron, and I won'lt be it's last loser! Time to make you nothing but parts, cyber-freak!"

Breakdown spends 1 luck points on I want a +50 modifier to be extra brutal on this unarmed roll I'm about to roll.
<FS3> Breakdown rolls Unarmed+50: Great Success. (3 5 8 8 5 7 1 3 7 4 6 4 3 1 8 3 5 5 5 6)

"Hmmm." Breakdown pretends to consider the message. He does not pretend to be scared. He looks thoughtful. He looks musing. He plays for a few seconds. He reaches up to the side of his head with two fingers lifted like he might be about to speak into the comm inset in his wrist--

Then he moves. His elbow cracks into the trunk of Throttle's frame as he lunges to his feet. He seizes his unfortunate assailant's wrist and wrenches his arm backward until he hears the reassuring creaking crack of the joint snapping, and then he fires the rivet gun into the ceiling of the announcer's booth before he bodily slams Throttle into the wall. He pins him there on the weight of his knee, his own arm twisted to point the nail gun beneath his chin so that the next squeeze of the trigger will bolt the nails right through his helm to his processor core.

Breakdown smiles and says in a low, almost pleased snarl, like thank you so much for trying that: "I got a different message in mind."

"Spawn of a glitch," Penchant hisses, then tightbeams to Soundwave, << "Sir, there's a pair of mechs in black paint that have sabotage on their minds, under the tracks. I don't know where they went, though..." >>

<FS3> Knock_Out rolls Transportation: Good Success. (3 6 1 6 1 7 6 6 5 3 2 8 8 4)

Lieutenant is distracted from the shadow to... is that Skystalker shooting? Really? Calm down, you will scare the viewers! Honestly, he really can't be that /gun/g-ho for this race. If anyone asks, he's not part of the crew with that mech. At least Knock Out pulled ahead.

His expression change as he feels something subtle, beyond the rumbling of the ground from the race and the weight of the crowd. "Those shadows are carrying more than their own weight..." Lieutenant notes to Penchant. "It may be irresponsible but I want to have a look, wish to follow? Or continue watching the race?"

<FS3> Starstruck rolls Singing: Success. (4 1 5 4 4 4 4 8)
<FS3> Lieutenant rolls Seismic Sense: Failure. (6 3 3 2 3 1 6 3 5 3)
<FS3> Penchant rolls Floorplans: Good Success. (7 3 8 5 1 4 1)

Knock Out cackles as he pulls ahead of Ransack, honking at him as he goes by. His engines are already roaring as he shifts to try and mirror the other racer's attempts at dirty racing; it quickly becomes apparent that it's not just speed he's relying on, he has to have actual dirty racing experience somewhere in his history. Of course, it means sacrificing a bit of his paint job to scrape by at points, but a bot's gotta do what a bot's gotta do. "Don't worry, I'll be able to take care of any parts you need afterwards," he tells Ransack. "I'm a doctor."

Starstruck leaps to his pedes to help Breakdown but - dude's got this. "I'm a predator, rapture, I am killin' it," he half-sings to himself, grin coming back, even as the actual song is blasted through his speakers while Breakdown takes the guy out. He's helping, right? Providing background music! And probably singing along. Definitely helping.

Once Throttle is securely pinned, Star dials back the volume a bit just so he can add, "You don't wanna push Breakdown, man. He'll fuck you up." He's come up beside them by now, looming over both, cracking his knuckle joints. "And he ain't the only one."

Soundwave's frame rises to his full height- fuller height, which is taking advantage of how broad and thick and armored he is. His gaze doesn't waver. "I do not desire a spotlight. You are blinded by it. Ignorant." The light of his visor flickers, receiving Penchant's message. He quickly relays to the avians and to Ravage. His helm ticks a fraction. Go, go see what Penchant is talking about and handle it. "<< Follow them, Penchant. Keep your distance. >>" He will take care of Clocker.

Soundwave's vents hiss, as he investigates further. Clocker was behind the drones- which were an insult to them. C for Cybertronian. He's aggressed the current leader of Velocitron- up until the I-250 is complete. And he is nothing more than a Functionist in Speedster's clothing. The statue suddenly moves to grab Clocker, and throw him to the ground. Pin him beneath a solid pede. "Your time in spotlight, over."

Ravage says nothing. Not just because he perfers not to speak unless necessary around strangers, but because it's unneeded. Soundwave can handle all the talking. The gold on the fingers is recorded, correlation to the markings on the drones marked. Likely unnoticed by Clocker, not expecting anyone to concern with such small details. But detail it is, a connection to the drones, filed for later. Every possible bit of evidence to this growing conspiracy documented for later. Would the Velos even believe it? Possibly not, but that's irrelevant to the matter.

Then while the two larger mechs are focused on each other he slinks about the edge of the confrontation. The faintest of movement was all the signal he needed, confirming what he already intended to do. As soon as he's out of Clocker's immediate field of view he takes off, engaging his cloaking systems as he leaves the stand and heads to investigate what Penchant has spotted.

<FS3> Ravage rolls Stealth: Great Success. (2 3 3 8 6 7 8 4 5 7 6 6 2 5)

Beneath the track, the rumble of the race above is maddening. Not only is the race going on but there is all the activity of the spectators excitedly racing around too. Though Velocitron is not Cybertron, structural engineering has some constants, which a clever little cival engineer can navigate. The pair of bots Penny and Lieu track have places themselves beneath the race track. One is feeding a long, impossibly thin blade through a pre-cut slot in the track while the other monitors a radar to see that Knock Out is indeed headed to where he is meant to go. The thin blade should cut the Con in half.

In the stands, the crowd around Skystalker falls silent. Deathly silent. What. Did. He. Just. Do??? Fifty, no seventy, Velos all idle silently as they marvel at Sky *even more than before*. All of their chatter for ransack is lost as they all crowd around him, asking over and over how he did that. The race is forgotten as they wish to know anything this flashy flier wants to say!

Behind all this, the mech that has singled himself out takes no notice of Mirage. He palms the device, watching ransack. On the track the two competitors race around for the 249th time. "Your time is at an end, you savage," he snarls as he watches Ransack. "Get near that finish line and..." His thumb idles on the button.

In the announcer'ls booth, Throttle has shut the hell up. he'ls not going to say one word more now that he'ls been mech-handled so... handledly? He lets go of his weapon. He doesnlt stay silent for long, not when his job is to talk. "Outsiders," he hisses. "Brutes, look at you. You don't understand our ways and not you want to co-op them! Perversions. Putting yourself in a driver seat of someone else'ls fate. There is no worse crime!"

Override is now sound asleep. ravage will not be missed, not when Clocker suddenly has all of Soundwave on him. Fortunately, the con being closer is a welcome thing. Since Soundwave is in his mind, maybe SW will get a sense of why as he rubs his golden painted fingertips all over any part of Soundwave he can reach. "No, I am afraid I am the only one that sees. I am not blind to what we were or what we should be. Standing on the shoulders of others is never a good thing. I will make us all equal once more. But for now, time for you shoud be ... slowing down," taunts the Clocker.

On the track, where Ransack was mad before he is now SUPER PISSED. Not only is a dirty (actually shiny pretty) outsider showing him up, but he is being outdone by dirty tricks too! ransack invented dirty racing when he had to find ways to keep wilnning! NOT ONLY THIS but the outsider is also something else, more than just a racer?! He's never been so insulted. So Ransack does something forbidden by Velo law, but something that will make this a show to be sure. As the pair of them race around to the finish line... he transforms! He leaps atop Knock Out's hood and means to smash his fist into the outsider. "Then get ready to repair this! Delta, nah, all of Velocitron will be MINE!"

"Yeah, let's have a look," Penchant hops off of Lieutenant's shoulders and heads beneath the tracks, waiting for Ravage and the birds before continuing. It takes him a moment or two, but Pen soon catches on to the patterns in the layout, and rounds a corner, only to shuffle backwards and hold his hand out. "What're they /doing?/" he whispers, squinting at the distant blade.

<FS3> Knock_Out rolls Transportation: Great Success. (8 6 3 2 5 8 3 4 2 8 3 7 3 8)
<FS3> Mirage rolls Unarmed: Good Success. (7 2 7 2 4)

"/Frag/--" Knock Out swerves as Ransack leaps on top of him, fishtailing briefly, before he suddenly slams the breaks to try and knock the other bot off balance so that he falls -- and then, moments later, he floors it. Right at -- and over -- Ransack. That's gonna leave a mark.

Knock Out should be fine without a pit crew. He's a medic, he can put himself back together if he needs to. Plus he's a car! Cars know how to replace tires on their own, right? He's fine.

Lieutenant has to follow Penchant's guide, thanks to his senses being scattered. "Cheating." he whispers trying to make himself small as he pulls out his blaster.

<FS3> Breakdown rolls Intimidation: Failure. (1 1 1 6 4 4 6 4)

Breakdown takes hold of the nail gun and caresses Throttle's face with it in a long glide. He laughs. It's a little wheezy. He sounds like a dork more than he sounds like a badass. These things happen. He says, "Nah. I've committed worse crimes. I'm thinkin' of a few right now." He chortles. "You know what happened to the last pile of scrap that tried ta use me against Knock Out?"

Skystalker's arms flick out to his sides, his wrists up as he cuts the plasma to his guns, the crackle and glow a pinpoint in the silence around him. He smiles, mostly to himself, before looking up and around at the Velocitronians near him, optics glimmering. They seem to glow even more as he is crowded, his gaze skirting over the track and quickly noting the positions of the racers before he looks around to his, erm, adoring public. "Many of us are born armed-- some more than others." He offers this as a consolation to the many questions, adding onto it with a shining grin, optics still skirting the track down below, wingtips folding back when he draws down to sit again. "My best gift is space flight. Ah, look!" Skystalker points down at the track when Ransack transforms.

<FS3> Starstruck rolls Firearms: Good Success. (7 8 8 2 2 1 6)

Mirage's instincts, once again, prove to be right on the mark. From his hiding spot, he hears enough of what the strange mecha is saying to be extremely concerned. He hasn't the time nor the inclination to figure out which of the racers this mecha is talking about. If he ends up being wrong about this stranger's intentions, he can always apologize later; however, he cannot undue a catastrophe. Creeping forwards, still cloaked, he gets as close to the Velocitronian as he can without being noticed: and then he leaps.

The first thing he grabs for is the device in the mecha's hands, considering subduing him a secondary concern once the real danger is past. "What's this about savages?" he growls. "The only one who lacks refinement here is the mecha who can't see what he has."

And it's something he's been dying to say since he visited this beautiful planet, with all its hidden tension. They suffer, and yet they have so much. Their war taught him how it's possible to lose everything, and the idea these ones will throw it away as they had sickens him.

Well that was.....not Breakdown's greatest work, for sure. Starstruck remembers hearing stories of how this 'Con could drive off multiple Autobots with just the sound of his voice. Seems like he's having an off day. Turning the music off completely, Star pulls out one of his pistols and, as an addition to Breakdown's, well, whatever he was trying to do, presses the barrel flush against Throttle's helm.

"Let me tell ya, it wasn't pretty," Starstruck says conversationally, digit on the trigger. "So I'd do as he says."

Even with all the ruckus going on around him Lieutenant would probably sense the faint vibration of paws on the ground, even if Ravage makes no actual sound in his arrival. The is no other sign as the cybercat slinks past them, he's already under the benefits of stealth he sees no need to stop or show himself.

Until the point he's leaping from the shadows beneath the track, pouncing at the would-be cheater before he can actually shove up his monoedge blade and give Knock Out a bit more off the top than he'd like. All he has to do is get his jaws or claws on his arms and keep him from doing his dirty work.

<FS3> Ravage rolls Unarmed: Good Success. (5 3 2 7 8 1)
<FS3> Mirage rolls Unarmed: Failure. (4 3 2 1 5)

Soundwave shifts and leans in on his pedes, full weight bearing down on the smaller mech. There's an intense anger gripping him, but he doesn't give into it. He focuses and- quickly reels back, taking several steps away. But the transfer has already succeeded and he's getting warning pings on his HUD. It's fast-acting- just like the rest of this damn colony- but he's big. There's a lot of him to affect.

Soundwave's fists curl and he stills. Perhaps it would take more time to affect him if he does not move. It's a good thing that he excels at that. His visor flickers as he glances at the track. His shoulder canon swings up, online. He's not firing though. In fact, his sheer pride and stubbornness is keeping him standing still, but the voices are blurring together, a cloud to his vision. There's a tremor, however slight, to his stance. "Clocker... will fail."

As Penchant and Lieutenant watch, the to cheaters are quickly reduced to mercy-pleading sobbing bots, unequipped to defend themselves from Ravage's sneak attack. Their own sneak attack fails, their thin blade falling to the track'ls subfloor. Sadly, here below all the action none get to see what just transpired above...

In the stands, those around Skystalker *don't* look at the race or the result. Rather, they *transform* and in their root modes they crowd Skystalker more. Guns? Neat! They start asking him all about *those* because now they want those too! None of them were born with weapons, or wings, and now the possibilities of having them are too enticing to pass up.

Behind this, the bot Mirage tackled loses his device. "I am from Transit! ransack would see many all of us sacrificed! Delta has plenty to spare. Greedy savages. and you would protect them! You doom Transit, and then the next slowest city until only Delta is left!" worming out from under Mirage, the bot quickly transforms and races off faster than can be caught up with.

<FS3> Mirage rolls Deception: Failure. (2 6 5 3 2 1 1 3)

In the announcer's booth, anything Throttle is about to say is lost when an added gun is shoved in his face. A real gun. That makes the threats seem very real, unlike just Breakdown's he was about to shrug off. He surrenders without further protest.

Above this, with Override, Clocker only has to wait. As Soundwave starts to feel the effects of the toxin, he calmly and patiently stands up and paces away. "No, Clocker will succeed. Clocker must if all of Velocitron is to be saved." That is when a surge of drones, like those that attacked Overrirde before, burst into the viewing booth to throw themselves at the sleepy Soundwave. Where they go, Clocker and Override disappear behind their wake.

On the track, Ransack eats pavement. Literally. He lands on, sreeches and comes to a stop on his face. He looks up in astonishment as he has been outdone by an outsider. He is as silent as the entire stadium is the moment Knock Out crosses the finish line. For one brief moment all of Delta is absolutely silent.

And then every (almost every) engine roars loudly as a new champion has won. "OVERRIDE! OVERRIDE! OVERRIDE!"

Penchant jerks in surprise as Ravage darts seemingly out of nowhere and takes down the mechs. And makes quick work of them, holy slag. "Yeugh," he gags a little, turning away. "Well that's taken care of," he says to Lieutenant, and opens his comms to their little Lost Lighter group. "<< Soundwave, it's been handled. What's going on topside? >>"

<FS3> Breakdown rolls Property Damage: Good Success. (4 4 8 5 3 8 3 4 4 5 1)

Knock Out swings around to a flourish of a halt, rear tires circling before he leaps back into root mode. He lifts his hands, clearly expecting to hear his name shouted in adoration, but what he hears is -- "<< Are they serious? Override didn't even race! Where's my applause!! >>"

Breakdown drops the nailgun on the floor of the announcer's booth and smashes down on it with his foot. Then he flips a set of enercuffs out of his subspace and slaps them on Throttle as if he's back on the ship. It's a little ridiculous. Breakdown, why did you bring these down here. "Damn," he says. "We shoulda recorded all of that for posterity. Or, y'know, political blackmail." ll;;;;;;;;l;l;l

"I'm not much for guns. I prefer a staff in a fight-- or a sword." Skystalker is a calming presence when he settles back in the stands, crowded as he is. He links one leg over the other, shoulders straight and chin regal in its tilt. His gaze sweeps over the Velocitronians, stirred at least by their curiosity and denying any close touches with a flicker of his wings. He answers a few more questions, but then he is entranced in what's happening down below, leaning forward with a vent caught inside his chest. The brief moment of silence broken by a wash of noise has him throwing his fists up again. "OVERRIDE!" His chant catches up with the rest-- And for good measure, lest he feel left out, Skystalker is game to start a second one: "KNOCK-OUT!" Whoo~!

The world above may never know what happened beneath the track. But Penchant and Lieutenant get to see first hand how Ravage got his reputation for being a cold, lethal professional... Okay, less on the lethal part, as Ravage only subdues the mechs, whom as he expected had no idea how to handle someone not of a robotic or vehicular form. Their being reduced to pleading for mercy does amuse him, though. Enemies underestimating his appearances only to quake in fear afterwards. This was the best part of his job.

The cybercat simply sits on the chestplate of one as he begs, though the claws of one forepaw are just mere microns from his throat, in easy reach of important energon lines in the neck structure. He leans his head close to the mech's face, eyes glowing manevolent red and his fangs gleaming. "If you desire mercy, then you best start talking why you would go so far as to desecrate one of your most sacred races by -cheating-."

You know, if the guys don't just wet themselves finding out this vicious creature is -sentient-. And probably smarter than them.

Star shrugs a little sheepishly even as he pulls back and replaces his pistol. "I'm a lot better at playin' sounds than recording them." Starstruck is not at all surprised that Breakdown is carrying enercuffs, and in fact makes a note to start doing so himself. That's a Security thing to do even off the ship, right? "But hey, I'm a witness. Between the two of us we've got this." Plus he kind of gets the sense that a bot like Throttle will be happy to spout his biased bullshit when pressed.

If he had the chance to prevent the great war... would he? The stranger's words catch Mirage unawares, leaving him startled. His cloaking tech flickers and fails as he loses concentration, and soon he finds himself standing in the midst of a startled crowd of Velocitronians. He even manages to drag a few gazes from the unexpected ending of the race with his sudden appearance.

But he doesn't notice them, nor does he react in time to catch the mecha. No, he's too busy wondering if he would have killed Megatron before the war if he had the chance. He can't deny a part of him says yes, and the knowledge causes him to shudder with revulsion.

What has he done? He doesn't know how to judge it yet. He could crush the device and be done with it, never tell anyone of his interference. It would be easy, so easy. He can already imagine the stares when people learn he saved Ransack. The rumors will start up anew, people wondering which side he's really on. Yet, how many lives can he save if speaks up?

Still trembling, his fist curls around the device and he tucks it away. He wants to destroy it, but he won't. This is bigger than him. Getting to his pedes, Mirage shoves past the startled Velocitronians and moves in a haze back towards his allies. He'll tell, but not yet. When it's quiet and he can find the wrods.

It's just another beat and his canon is forced to power down. Soundwave's jaw tightens. Did third-person always sound so... Irksome? He doesn't have time to dwell on that as he digs his pedes in and lunges for the Velocitronian.

At least, it feels like a lunge to him. His feet drag and its like he's pushing through mollasses. Visor flickering, he registers the drones and Clocker and Override before dropping to a knee. He hears someone, the world swaying and vaguely aware of some sort of beating he may be recieving. He sends a message out quickly, its mostly static but his pride demands he speaks as firm as ever. Well, as firm as he can. "<< Over...ride... Gone. Clocker- >>" Soundwave cuts off with the shattering of his visor. Primus, he hates drones. The toxin finally beats his will-power and he subcombs.

"This isn'lt over!" Ransack bellows that to... everyone and yet no one, since all of Delta is not listening to him. With road on his face he looks about his people to find them cheering for someone else, an outsider. He snaps his fingers at his pit crew, his gang, who all rush to join him. Together they transform and race away from the Inevitable 250.

Yet, none of this was inevitable and all of it thrilling and exciting. The cybertronian won by going *over* Ransack. Though they cheer for the winning side, as is tradition, they do something new. It starts withthose around Skystalker and it builds. Soon every bot transforms to their root mode and they stand, they *stand*, to cheer for the winner. There has been a rush on wings and things lately, due to the visitors, but come tomorrow there will be a drastic shortage of red paint.

Override might be gone, Clocker too. But for here, in this moment there is only the thunderous shourt of...




Okay situation handled, race should be over, and now Lieutenant wonders if he can hit the library now. Get away from the roaring and find quiet.

Skystalker grins widely when his chant of "KNOCK OUT! KNOCK OUT!" picks up around him, silently hoping that this may make up for earlier. He stands with the Velocitronians, pressing a sharp, loud, cheering whistle from his mouth, applause included. See? He can appreciate a race-- and a result. For now, it seems they've won over the locals and Knock Out can freely bask in his own greatness.

"<< Overri- Sir? Soundwave? >>" Penchant shoots Lieutenant a panicked look before darting for the surface, though he's quickly lost the roar of cheers over Knock Out. Oh. Well that's one good thing.

"<< Penchant, see to Soundwave. >>" Ravage turns his gaze back to his two new 'friends'. "<< And send someone down to collect these goons. Once I've finished... questioning them. >> As concerned as he may be for his keeper, Ravage knows to keep his focus on his mission at hand. That is what Soundwave would want him to do. This puzzle still has a lot of pieces to put into place...

Oh, there. Much better. Knock Out lifts his chin, preening as the crowd's shouts take on the /appropriate/ nomenclature. He stands there, beautiful and magnanimous and allows the crowd to adore him. It's what a benevolent dictator would do

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