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Who: Americon, Scorn, Flywheels, Triggerhappy, Rumble, Swindle, Blast Off |
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TRYPTICON MEDICAL WARD
The massive Scorponok lies on a slab, various tubes plugged into critical points on his body, sustaining his condition after the catastrophic damage he sustained courtesy of Rodimus Prime. They have not detached Zarak yet, as they haven't figured out how to do so without killing the old timer. But that creates an opportunity for a guest to berate the crippled giant...
"What a pathetic waste," says the large Decepticon as he stalks around Scorponok's table. "All the political skill, strength, and power to rule, but still you fail! I even showed you how to compromise computer-systems across all the Empire so that the highest-level commands will respond only to you--and you did not take advantage! This little gizmo, this transponder..." He reaches into Scorponok's wounds, and jerks out a somewhat round (potato-shaped?) metal object. "...automatically identifies its wielder as the supreme leader of all Decepticons once it's activated, and you left it off! Well..." He flicks something on the object. "...I'll just borrow it for a while, hm? Make some changes, how about that?"
Scorponok can only lie there mutely, tubes sticking out of his mouth.
"Nothing to say?" the large Decepticon says. "Ah, well..." And so he stalks out of the medical ward, but as he does so, he accidentally bumps into Bonecrusher, who grunts, "HEY WATCH IT!" And in that moment, the larger Decepticon drops the transponder he had been holding, which falls out of his hands and rolls down the hallway. "You--" snarls the large Decepticon, whirling on Bonecrusher, but he realizes there's larger things at stake, and so he turns back to see if he can spot the transponder. Alas, it's gone! It was just there!
Wordlessly, he walks down the hallway, looking down connecting corridors, to see if it's there, but he sees nothing. Craaaap. Time to leave quietly before SHTF.
LATER
"ATTENTION DUELISTS I mean DECEPTICONS!" goes the announcement over Trypticon's PA systems. "I have discovered that I am now President of the Decepticons! Please report to the Trypticon Command Center to sing my praises!" Oh no, was that Americon?
<Decepticon> Former Senator Americon says, "ATTENTION DUELISTS I mean DECEPTICONS! I have discovered that I am now President of the Decepticons! Please report to the Trypticon Command Center to sing my praises!"
<Decepticon> Former Senator Americon says, "Oh, wait, lemme fix that, hrm... *tap tap*"
<Decepticon> Emperor President Americon says, "Testing..."
<Decepticon> Emperor President Americon says, "Success! Anyway, get over here!"
<Decepticon> Scorn says, "President? Oh, this should be amusing.."
Flywheels is meticulously counting the number of rungs on a old rusty ladder hanging from a ceiling portal in some obscure hallway when he hears the raucous announcement. He starts, optics wide. knocking the ladder over. He gasps, and deadpans, quickly righting the ladder .
<Decepticon> Flywheels says, "What?! Is this a joke?! If Galvatron hears you talking like that, you're going to be slagged! ...not that I mind.. but I thought you should know..."
<Decepticon> Blast Off says, "What ARE you babbling about, Americon?"
<Decepticon> Emperor President Americon says, "Hey, just head on up and you'll see! I think?"
Blast Off enters the room, looking as haughty and aloof as always. Americon was babbling some nonsense over the coms about being the "President of the Decepticons"? Happening to be in the area, the CO of Aerospace decides he should probably check into this. It makes no sense, but if there is even a shred of truth to all this.... then Primus help them all.
Scorn has a bit of free time, so why not humor the little tape by attending his little meeting? Moving with a casual stride, the mantis enters the command center, hands folded neatly behind her back. A rather amused, sharp toothed smile spreads across her face when stepping past the door and into the company of the others. "Either Americon killed Galvatron, or he's finally gone completely insane. And the former is pretty much impossible."
Triggerhappy had been going nuts shooting drones in the simulator for the past several cycles. He never seems to tire of it. Though he does stop when Americon's strange announcement comes in over Trypticon's internal comms. Americon? Who? Oh...that one crazy Casseticon. Heh, he might as well go see why the mech suddenly thought he was 'President' or whatever. As he passes Flywheels and his ladder obsession, he smirks and purposefully kicks at the object.
"Wait, Americon wasn't already completely insane? That's news to me." he comments as he joins the others.
Flywheels arrives shortly after Scorn and Blast Off, looking anxious. "Now," he says nervous, "are we really going o sing your praises? Because first, we need to make sure we're not about to eat or sit at a table. And...well, we're not in a street, and it is after 7 ... I don't think any of us are about to go to bed either.. hmm.. maybe we're safe..."
- to
Buzzsaw has arrived.
Blast Off nods to Scorn, then bristles just a little at Triggerhappy's entrance. Flywheels gets a blank look. Especially when he starts insisting on all these weird rules for everything. The Combaticon stares at him. "What... are you even talking about?"
And Americon is waiting for the Decepticons alright, sitting in the command chair, which he slooooowly turns towards the arriving Decepticons for maximum effect. To make the reveal even more impressive, he is shining a flashlight upwards at his face, you know, for that "Baltar" effect. You know, from the original Battlestar Galactica? "GREETINGS DECEPTICONS! Uh, I just found out I'm Decepticon Leader." In his other hand is some sort of round-ish, potato-shaped metal object. "Yep, all the command codes respond to me. Uh, computer, activate death turrets and kill... uh... that guy!" He points at some random Seeker who follows the others in and an overhead turret shoots him in the knee.
"AUGH! My knee!" the Seeker cries, and flops to the ground.
"See?!" Americon says. "I can do anything! Do not challenge my power, especially not with a fillibuster, whatever that is!" He raises from the chair, and, oh, he's even got pauldrons and a cape on, too. That's a good sign.
Gliding along silently, Buzzsaw's optics are glowing in Trypticon's interior. Someone called for a gathering, claiming to be President? How... amusing. Naturally, he's due to fix this nonsense, or...at the very least find out who's in dire need of 'training' for the sake of 'loyalty' to proper leadership.
Not waiting a moment, he snaps his wings open to break his momentum, opting for a perch atop (flip coin...) Scorn's shoulder. Not a word said. Nope. Just as casual as you please.
Rumble enters from the Main Hallway below.
Rumble has arrived.
Swindle has arrived.
Swindle strides into the room looking to make a deal.
Scorn is glad to see Blast Off. Triggerhappy less so, unfortunately. And Flywheels is just.. well he's just Flywheels. Americon's reveal gets a rather high raise of a brow, especially when he successfully commands the turret systems to shoot someone. This could be.. promising. And it doesn't help that Buzzsaw lands on her shoulder, which makes her ego grow ten times bigger. Birds, the ultimate status symbol.
Time to put on the charm. "Well then, I guess that's it, mechs. Americon's in charge." A sharp smirk to the others before turning back to their new patriotic leader and offering a curt nod and hoping to step forward towards him, get up close to his side. "Ah, but what's a leader without a second in command? I volunteer myself, since who else in this room also has leading experience besides me?"
Triggerhappy just looks exasperated at this. How did Americon get that? And why does it even exist in the first place? But then again, Americon is pretty stupid. He could probably be tricked into just about anything...
For now, he just stands there, leaning against a back wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face as he watches Scorn try to cozy up to him, or trick him into giving it to her.
"Sing in the street, disappointment you'll meet. Sing before seven, you'll cry before eleven. If you sing before you eat, you'll cry before your sleep. Sing while eating or sing in bed, evil will get you and you'll be dead," Flywheels recites without hesitation, nodding vigorously.
Then he deadpans. "Oh Primus, he really is leader. What are we gonna do.." he cries desperately, wringing his hands. Then, he scowls. "Snap out of it! Do you really think that sorry excuse for a Casseticon could usurp Galvatron! Pft! You moron!"
"I swear, those armor piercing rounds are authentic." Swindle pats the back of the mech he's talking to, whom looks like a big blocky lump of metal with gatling guns mounted on both arms. "You will be putting holes in Autobots faster than they'll know what hit them." The few reassuring words and that charming shyster smile seem to be enough as the mech tromps off happily with the imagery of dead Bots piled at his feet in his head.
Deadweight just continues to glower over Swindle's shoulder until the mech is gone. "I swear, what's wrong with you boss? You could of sold that for twice as much to someone half as smart."
Swindle just waggles a finger at him. "Ah ah, prehaps, but this was more a manner of disposal than profit. Those shells are made out of depleted uranium I bought off of Carbombya's illegal bomb developement programs. Selling them at a cheap price ensures that they will be used, destroying any potential evidence that would of remained in that isotope."
"Ooooh." The two happen to walk by the entrance of the room, and a few moments later Deadweight backs up to peer inside. "What's goin' on in there?"
It takes a moment more until Swindle finally walks around him again to look as well. "Looks like either a rally or a riot in the works."
Americon gives Scorn his best cocky grin, which looks really dumb, so sucks to be him. "Ah, but of course my dear! Aside from yourself and me, no one else has leadership experience, and I have more and I'm also an American, so only I can be President!" Then, doubt shows on his face. "But wait... what will we call you? First lady? Because you can't be Vice President, I mean, that's not a job for a FEEEMALE, Hillary Clinton proved that." Ooh, topical! "Anyway, I don't know what Flywheels is going about but he can rest assured from the PRESIDENT HIMSELF that Freddy Krueger isn't real!"
Blast Off watches Americon's antics with a raised optical ridge. His attention is immediately drawn to the potato-shaped object. He glances back up at Americon, who does not have the physical or mental ability to rule the Decepticons. Hmmm. But if he stumbled ONTO something, like, say... that device he holds... well, that could be interesting. Especially to someone who COULD actually rule the Decepticons. Like, say... Blast Off. But there goes Scorn, trying to suck up to Americon already. Wait... unless, she's just trying to get close to him and grab it first?
Flywheels gets one last confused look, then Blast Off steps forward, towards Americon's other side. Perhaps he can at least get a closer look.... "Interesting... Well, Americon, I'm CO of Aerospace, and possibly the fastest one here... is there anything valuable you need me to safekeep for you?" He notices Swindle come in the room and nods to him. Hmmm, perhaps it's time for a little Combaticon teamwork?
"Hey wait a minute now! If he really is leader, well..I don't know what you're all thinking, but I know for a fact that I don't want this stupid Casseticon goon as leader! And since it looks like Galvatron isn't here and this tiny little guy is sure a helluva lot easier to usurp, I say we shoot him!" And yes, Flywheels looks right at Triggerhappy. Probably a bad move.
Then he eeks. "Oh no!! If he really is leader, you shouldn't, you saw what he did to that other seeker, what do you think he'll do to me?!" But then he realizes he can't really stop what he's already started, so he does the only thing that seems logical at the moment--he exits the room lickety-split.
"You can call me sugar struts for all I care." Scorn shrugs. "My only concern is making sure this faction is run right." A hand suddenly rests on Americon's shoulder. Count on Blast Off, though, to try and get in on the action as well. If looks could kill, Blast Off would be struck down in an instant with the deadly glare she shoots at him to make him back off, her hand tightening just a bit.
"Don't be silly, dear." She nearly speaks through those sharp teeth and forced smile. "If valuables need safekeeping, it's only logical that I handle them." Narrowed optics shift towards the others gathered. "I hope none of you have any opposition to any of this.." Was she daring them to speak up? ..Welp, there goes Flywheels, so that's one down. Now if only Blast Off would move away she could make her move..
How long has Rumble been there?? He must've come in to see what was going on at some point. He's standing somewhere near Swindle, just watching this play out.
"And if *I* trust him as a transport, you know he's good for the safety of it," Swindle chimes in without missing a beat as he walks in. Even though he doesn't actually know what's going on until Blast Off subtly radios him. He's just that good at getting into the swing of a situation with only the minimal observation.
He pauses, lifting one hand to stroke his chin thoughtfully as he regards Americon. "But this will never due. You lack the, shall we say, imposing stature to truely strike fear into the laser cores of the enemy. Certainly this can be fixed though." The shyster turns partially, pulling out his holopad. "You ever consider extendable platform boots and a helmet with decorative flame spouts? Height and fire are always good for intimdation factor..."
Americon looks between Scorn and Blast Off, scratching his chin. "Hmmm.... hmmm... well, I have to say, Blast Off, while you make a convincing case, you're also kind of an antisocial jerk and I hate your guts a little. Scorn, on the other hand, is much friendlier, and something about her just says to me that she's very talented at handling semi-spherical objects. So..." He holds up the notpotato to Scorn, as if to hand it over, then Swindle makes an offer!
"Hmmm!" he considers. "Platform boots? Helmet with flame spouts? That does sound like it would make me more impressive looking... I require a demonstration! Now! At once! Or die!"
Meanwhile, he carelessly continues to hold the notpotato up in the air.
Hmm...Blast Off has an idea, there. Triggerhappy nods. "Yeah, you know as leader you must have some really important items, there, Americon! Don't you know, that's what your loyal minions are for! To help you safeguard important devices!"
The Targetmaster steps closer to Americon. And then Flywheels says something about shooting! Which probably wasn't a wise thing with Triggerhappy in the room. "Haha! Well I couldn't say no to shooting!" he grins, and fires somewhat carelessly in Americon's direction. "Whoops!"
Triggerhappy reverts to his root form.
Combat: Triggerhappy sets his defense level to Fearless.
Combat: Triggerhappy strikes Americon with his Did Someone Say 'Shoot Him'? (Grab) attack!
Combat: You took 0 damage.
ROLL: Blast Off rolled a 100
ROLL: Scorn rolled a 92
ROLL: Triggerhappy rolled a 31
Blast Off blinks a little as Scorn's gaze burrows into his very laser core... but then he returns it with his usual cold, aloof stare. Sorry, Scorn, but leadership of the Decepticons takes precedence here. As Swindle moves in to distract Americon, Blast Off slides in from behind- and as Americon conveniently leaves the device up in the air- Blast Off nabs it easily, before anyone else can. Having high agility has its advantages! He gives Scorn the tiniest smirk (though whether she can see it under his faceplate is debatable...) and launches himself into the air.
"Alright, computer, I am the new leader of the Decepticons. Point weapons at everyone except me and Swindle. Now... the rest of you... back off to the other side of the room unless you want me to order the computer to fire at you- full blast."
"Why yes, just let me make a request..." Swindle expands the padd into a full sized display and holds it up as if to show something, but in reality it's just to have a shield in case, you know, Blast Off decides to not quite trust him either. He really wouldn't put it past most of his teammates, considering he did try to sell them off for parts that one time. Or because Blast Off is so in his debt right now.
But no, the other Combaticon doesn't order the guns on him as well. "And see there, that is exactly why a leader needs to be taller."
"Oh sh--" Americon sputters as the notpotato is plucked from his hands! Then Blast Off seizes command! "Haha, uh, hold on Blast Off!" Americon says, hands in the air. "That, uh, that thing you're holding doesn't do anything! It's, uh, it's an alarm clock! Yeah! To... wake up... wake me up... uh... tomorrow!" Even so, he's hopped out of the command chair, put his hands up, and is slowwwwly backing away, eyeing the turrets lowering down and aiming at everyone.
Rumble decides to go look for Frenzy. He can't figure this clusterkerfuffle out. Looks kind of dopey. And that thing they're fighting over...looks an awful lot like a...isn't that a...??
Rumble shakes his head, and heads for the door. Time to go find some trouble to get into.
Rumble heads downward to the Main Hallway below.
Rumble has left.
"A wise choice." Scorn compliments Americon, but praises will soon be going to her instead as the object is held out, ripe for the taking. It's almost unreal, the power within her grasp, and those optics are as wide as the smile that spreads on her features. Sharp digits twitch, readily reaching out to pluck it from the cassette's hand, and then... a shot rings out. It distracts her long enough for Blast Off to take the object, and when she looks back it's gone!
"Blast Off!" Anger spikes to its peak in an instant as she whips around to spot the mech hovering in the air. She takes a step forward, but the sudden weapons pointed at them gives her pause. So all she can do is glare, fists nearly shaking with the strength she balls them. "Blast Off.." Scorn begins, trying to reel back her fury a little. "Be rational. You can run a squadron, but you and I both know you wouldn't be able to run an army. When it gets too much for you you'll simply hand it off.. to who? Onslaught? And be left in the dust?"
A hand settles fingertips against her chest. "Give it to me and I'll make certain you get the position, the respect, the /riches/ you deserve. I command the biggest sub-faction in this Empire. /I/ can run this army properly."
"Aaaah, politics and power games. Almost as much fun as economics... but not quite. Doesn't always have the more immeadiate returns, tends to be a more.. long term investiment." Swindle tucks his datapad away. "Though power certainly does have its perks, it also means being in charge of.... y'know..." He nods his head in the direction of the aptly named Triggerhappy who's already gotten off half-cocked, and the departed demented Duocon. "However that little dodad does give you considerable bargaining power."
Americon finally looks down at his chest and sees a smoking hole there. "WOAH! You're good Blast Off! I didn't even notice you blasting me!" It was actually Triggerhappy.
Blast Off looks down at Scorn, then huffs as she says he couldn't run an army. "Have you really thought so little of my performance as CO of Aerospace? Have I not done a magnificent job? Well... I believe I have proven myself quite nicely, and if I asked Onslaught for advice? So what? The Combaticons /should/ rule the Decepticons..." (Not the other way around, he thinks glumly.) "Our military expertise would whip this army into shape in no time..." Though Scorn's mention of riches does get a brief look, but then it hardens again. "Sorry, my dear, we can talk later- but for now I am just a bit busy here." Blast Off nods to Swindle, "Exactly. Americon thinks I'm anti-social? Not really... I just choose who I spend my time and energy with... wisely." Then he looks at Americon. "That was Triggerhappy- living up to his name... not I. And speaking of which- Triggerhappy, drop all your weapons on the floor. No shooting."
Meanwhile, he adds, "Computer, lock me in as Leader of the Decepticons." (Who knows if that'll work, but it's worth a shot.) "Also, if anyone tries to suddenly grab this device I hold in my hand, shoot them. And... let's see. Send some workers out to the Combaticon base to fortify it and... also make things a little more, um, comfortable while you're at it. Make sure my wine cellar is well-stocked, too. Let's see, what else..."
Scorn glower at Blast Off. Oh, he's going to deeply regret refusing her, that much is certain. Swindle also get a glare, but her tense stance eases and a rather coy, knowing smirk curls her lips. "Fine, be leader. I was going to wait until Decepticon High Command killed Americon for treason before taking the device.. Sorry, dear." A smirk to Americon. "But I suppose I'll have to wait for them to kill you instead. Oh, I can just imagine the look on Lord Galvatron's face when he realizes nothing will respond to his orders. I wonder how long it will take them to find you.."
That might've worked, who knows?
Meanwhile, Americon sidles on over to Scorn. "Psst, hey. Hey Scorn," he whispers. "Uh, you know, we can get that thing back from him. See, if you throw me at him while I'm tape mode, I might be able to get the thingy back! And, uh, give it to you! Also, that's REALLY mean."
Aloud, he yells dramatically, "OH! You have beaten us, Blast Off! Woe shall befall us while you, uh, sip your wine! And you are anti-social! What you described is anti-social behavior! You psycho!"
Swindle glances up again at Americon's 'outburst'. And shakes his head a bit. "I think Soundwave spent all his good trash talk processors on Rumble and Frenzy, that was just pathetic."
Triggerhappy stares definately at Blast Off. "Scorn has a point, you know. What do you think Galvatron's going to say when he finds out you've hijacked his uh...army? Or do you think Scoronpok's really down for the count? And what about Soundwave? Don't you think High Command's going to execute anyone who appears to have usurped Galvatron? I dunno about you, but I don't want to be one of those people who look like they might have committed treason."
He pauses. "Oh, and I'm not going to drop my guns on the floor, no. Try to kill me if you want, unlike you I'm not afrid of dying."
- afraid
Blast Off looks at Scorn, the sudden thought of Galvatron looking for him making him rather uneasy. Especially with a loyalty program inside his head that would probably prevent him and the other Combaticons from even trying to shoot back if Galvatron were to attack them. "Well, Scorn... I never said I would *entirely* exclude you from this...." He doesn't trust her much, but he doubts she has a loyalty program inside her head, and it might be good to have such an ally. "Like I said, we can... talk later. You know I am... ameniable to you." Which gives him time to think what to say.
To Americon, he replies, "Well, of course I have beaten you, I'm *better* than you. What would YOU have done as Leader, anyway? And... Psycho? Hardly. More like the only sane one around?" He glances at Swindle and Scorn. "With possible exceptions." Triggerhappy gets a glare. "Who said usurped? Perhaps I am just... trying to run things for Galvatron. While he's away, that's all. Yes. What has our current leadership gotten us, hmm? Have they achieved so much that you think the status quo is better than trying something new?"
"HEY!" Americon snaps angrily at Blast Off. "My reign lasted barely any longer than Starscream's! You had no idea what kinda crazy reforms I had planned. Like the 4th of July, for instance? THAT WOULD BE A HOLIDAY FOR US! Why... when I'm done with you Blast Off, they're going to call you FACE OFF because you will have no face!" Then he turns on Swindle, pointing at him. "Well if YOUR putdowns are better, then... then... uh... sell them to me?"
Scorn casually rests a hand on Americon's shoulder as she speaks, much calmer now after having smoothed back her figurative feathers. "Now you see, I'd just love to talk later. Unfortunately I have other plans." Namely the one she's about to enact right now! Hopefully Americon gets the hint and readies himself, because she's already grabbing him by the back of the collar and flinging him at Blast Off, hoping to knock him off balance. Screw the turrents, she wants that sphere!
"Someone has to be in charge, and frankly, all Scorponok cares about lately is siccing petty revenge on the other planets that tried to invade Cybertron and failed miserably at it." Swindle as usual is being cool and casual about it, even if he is paying subtle attention how the present Cons play off each other as attention shifts between who has the device and who doesn't. He does give Americon's remark a bit of a hand wave. "Eh, yelling insults is more Brawl's territory, but I could probably set up a tutorship in demoralizing shouting if you really want to."
"Oh, did you just criticize Galvatron?" Triggerhappy asks incredulously. "You know, with that 'what has our current leadership gotten us?' comment." He smirks. "Oh and good luck convincing Galvatron and the rest of High Command that this wasn't usurping, and wasn't treason." The Targetmaster is actually content not to touch the thing. It would be nice not to incur the wrath of Galvatron.
Alas, Americon has no time to respond to Swindle before Scorn flings him at Blast Off! "Wait, wha--" he sputters, forgetting his own plan and forgetting to transform, promptly getting riddled with laser blasts from the overhead turrets as he collides with the device Blast Off is holding and knocking it out of his hands!
Blast Off gestures to Swindle, "Exactly... it's time for some new approaches." To Triggerhappy, he sputters, "Critisize Galvatron? No... I was... I was merely offering the viewpoint that Scorponok and some of our current active-duty, present leaders have been less than successful at..well... Just... we should try something new, is all. Until Galvatron gets back. That's all." As he's distracted by Triggerhappy, Americon suddenly comes flinging into his hand, knocking the device out of it! "What?!?"
Ah, Americon. So stupid, yet so helpful. The instant the device leaves Blast Off's hand, Scorn is off in a flash to catch it. And when she does, well.. let's just say all that power goes to her head for a moment. "Yes! It's all mine!" A sharp toothed, chesire grin accompanies the wicked cackle she emits, clutching the object to her chest and swiftly turning on the others. "And to think, I thought this day was going to be boring. Hnn, computer, disregard all previous orders and restore settings as they were. Keep turrets on all other present as well."
Now things are going to get interesting. Scorn makes sure to keep her distance from the others, offering them all quite a coy smile. "Sorry, mechs, but none of you are cut out for this sort of work. Now, as my first act.. Computer, allow I, Scorn, access to all systems and files jointly with Galvatron." Oh? What's this? She's not completely taking over?
"Easy come, easy go. Do try to not kill each other in the process, hmmm?" Swindle doesn't even look up from his datapad. "I'd hate to lose so many good customers to such internal affairs."
Something that's smoking and has a lot of holes in it crawls along the floor towards Scorn. Oh, that must be Americon! "S-Scorn! Heh... what a... team we make, huh? I... was totally going to give you... the thing... hrk... Say... can I... uh... hold the thingy for you for a bit..."
Blast Off blinks as... no, no, no, no... Scorn gets the device?!? "Computer, disregard that order! At once! I am your Master!" But it seems you have to be holding the device in order to make the commands. The Combaticon looks at his hands, once holding so much power... and now... nothing. He slowly sinks back to the ground, and looks slightly crestfallen. But only for a moment. Then he steps towards Scorn. "Scorn... Scorn, listen to me. You KNOW you need my skills, my speed, my firepower. Let us work together. I was going to include you, a fellow *sophisticate*, in my rule... so surely you ought to return the favor?""
Triggerhappy is much like Swindle right now, because he seems content to not take the 'hot potato'. They're all going to be executed for treason, so...
Swindle glances up. "Even if you are in charge now, Scorn dear, it's a very big Empire. You may want to consider having some... assistance in keeping things in order."
Scorn looks down her non-existant nose at the smoking heap that is Americon crawling towards her. A soft snort escapes before she lifts her foot and rests it on the mech's head, giving enough pressure to pin him and dig her heel in a little. "You served me well, Americon. But hush now, you'll get your reward later." Sorry, not going to be getting this thing back, it seems. And besides, right now she's focused on Blast Off, who seems to be trying to win back her favor now. "Need? Darling, I don't /need/ anything. I could certainly replace you. But you're right in that you're very useful, and I will definitely be making use of said skills. However.. you should have listened to me before and given me the device, and for not doing so I'll have to punish you a little."
A glance to the computer. "Computer, shoot Blast Off in the leg." The turret currently trained on him does so, though thankfully it's nothing that can't be fixed. While the shuttle is dealing with that, Scorn looks to Swindle and grins. "Oh, I agree. That's why I'll have plenty of work for you once I start puting my plan into motion. But you must understand, I'm not trying to take over the Empire, at least not yet. Things will go as they always have, Galvatron will still be able to run the faction. But us? We'll be working i nthe shadows.. for now."
A pause before she speaks casually. "Oh, and tell anyone of this and I'll have you killed. Quite slowly and painfully, I might add. Sound good?"
Americon squirms under Scorn's heel as so many other Decepticons possibly have in the past. "Fank fou fistress!" he says, sounding muffled, what with a giant foot on his head.
Well, it seems that Scorn has a firm handle on the hot potato. Is there no one, no one at all, who can avoid this dire situation?
Blast Off stops, optics fixed right back on the femme. He starts a long, slow huffff at her comments- which stops as she mentions shooting him in the leg-wha? BAM. "Gah!" The Combaticon, who isn't the most durable mech in the world to begin with, crumples down in pain, grasping his now injured leg. "You.. you... shot me?!?" Using his agility to force himself to stand on the uninjured leg, he glares back up at her. "I will NOT forget that! I have to say, I'm disappointed, I expected more... civilized behavior from you... Has the promise of power gone to your head? I expected more from someone as sophisticated as you...."
Swindle chuckles a little. "Aaah, efficency in the shadows. I do like the way you think." Then tsks a bit as Blast Off complains from the floor. "Really Blast Off, sophisticated or not, remember what faction you are in." Idly he pats a hand on the stock of his arm cannon. "We all have our... dark sides..." Then flicks his datapad back into his hand. "Would you like me to let medical know you need a leg recalibration due to a... weapons misfire?" Pause. "Mmm, or something else. Shooting yourself in the foot isn't really your style." Click click. "Brawl's weapons misfire. Better."
Well then, it looks like no one else is going to oppose Scorn. "Oh stop." She rolls her optics at Blast Off. "You may have my favor, Blast Off, but that doesn't excuse you from due punishment. You're lucky I didn't do worse." A nod to Swindle alongside a smirk. "Good thinking. Oh, and have someone look at Americon, will you? Poor thing, getting shot up just for me." Foot is removed from the tape's head before she bends down to stand him on his feet.. if he'll stay up, that is. "And trust me, Blast Off, you won't be complaining about that leg for long once you witness what I have in store for this army. But that will come in due time since things like this take a while."
Soundwave has arrived.
Blast Off arrrghs, fire, my arch-nemisis (as of late) >_>
Americon doesn't stand up. He was shot many, many times by the overhead turrets and it's amazing that he's even alive right now.
Blast Off 's optics narrow at Scorn's words. Due punishment? Oooh, she's gonna regret that. The Combaticon's pride doesn't like this at all, oh no. "I will not forget this, no..." He crosses his arms in a huff, then almost loses balance by doing that, so his arms go to his sides again. It's not easy balancing on one foot, basically, even with his high agility. He rubs at the injury and glares at Swindle, but says nothing. It... wouldn't be the first time Brawl had fired on his teammates by accident. "So now what? What DO you have in mind, then?"
MEANWHILE ELSEWHERE:
A stoic Soundwave lands in one of Trypticon's hangers, the shuttle experience from off-planet was both full of turbulence, and airborne threats. The Tape Commander reviews his data of raids to come on this miserable dirtball of an excuse of a planet. Absently he taps a few keys on his datapad, noting all the human germs who somehow still run this place, and haven't been stamped into the ground. The Intel Commander ponders to himself, 'HOW COULD THE MIGHTY DECEPTICON EMPIRE FAIL TO REMOVE SUCH ANNOYING OBSTACLES?'
He opens the door to the main Command Center. Uhm.... Soundwave stands in the doorway silently, noting all the damages, no doubt due to hijinks. His mind calculates. He doesn't exactly KNOW what happened here, and considering his list of objectives, he does not CARE either. Probably something stupid happened. Americon is on site after all. Soundwave looks at his objectives list, then as if reminded, deletes an order for his favorite ener-bourbon to be delivered. After that, he returns to proper Intelligence Operations, specifically Rule 26:Always Pretend You Know EXACTLY What Just Happened.
He awaits apologies, and the inevitable excuses.
After a moment, Americon finally manages to mutter, "B-b-b--SHE SET ME UP MAN!" He springs to his feet, suddenly, gesticulating wildly at Scorn. "Man, that ho was all like, 'Hey Americon, here is ultimate power' and I was like 'NO I'm a loyal Decepticon and all that get that thing away from me, also I'm telling Soundwave' but then SHE SHOT ME!"
"I'm glad you asked, Blast Off. First I'll--" Scorn begins, but before she can recant her glorious plans, Soundwave walks in. Crap. Scorn tenses, quickly folding hands behind her back and hiding the device while puting on an easy smile. "Commander Soundwave, what perfect timing. It appears we had malfunction with the security system and--" Americon suddenly starts confessing, most of it unture of course, and she shoots him a nasty scowl. "Shut your /mouth/ you nasty little turborat.." She hisses softly past her teeth when bending down to grab him by the collar. "Ah, pay him no mind, sir! The turrents must have struck his central processor when they went off."
Blast Off is still standing there, balancing on one leg and trying to figure out how to get close to Scorn and nab that device... when SOUNDWAVE suddenly shows up. The surprise makes him fall over this time. Thunk! Then he's quickly back on his feet- er, foot. He doesn't offer an excuse. No, he just becomes very quiet. He's the quiet, aloof, silent type, right? This is the PERFECT time to just... fall back into that role. And hope no one starts asking him questions. He does his best to just melt into the background.
Combat: Soundwave runs a diagnostic check on Americon
Combat: Soundwave runs a diagnostic check on Scorn
Silent Soundwave regards. His visor focuses on the IFF transponder Scorn is holding. It only takes a nano-moment to identify its use and intent...which explains everyone's injuries. With his arm raised to support mighty Buzzsaw, he approaches the battered crew.
Step by step, he approaches Scorn until he stands before her. Still not a single word is spoken by the Tape Commander, he indeed seems transfixed by the potato, by Scorn...
And then the most impossible thing happens. Soundwave's knee bends, bends, his body lowering...
And he kneels, a hand on his knee as is customary. The Tape Commander bends knee to Scorn, perhaps he's just as confused as everything else is when that IFF transmitter is in play?
Four seconds go by. Just long enough for everyone to become completely surprised at his actions. In that timeframe Soundwave's thoughts of this 'prank' go from 'amusing' to 'annoying' to 'completely unacceptable' In the next second, he bawls up his fist and reorders that crate of ener-bourbon he needs when he works on Earth. The second after that, he starts to rise, his left hand sweeping forwards and upwards, he also doubles the order of his favored enerhol.
He rises into a vicious, savage uppercut against Scorn, solely because she's holding the potato, intent to knock her well over and away. He stands fully again, declaring once and only once, "DECEPTICON COMMAND IS NOT ESTABLISHED BY CODES. YOU HAD NOTHING TO GAIN FROM THIS." He turns to look at the room, "YOU'RE ALL ON REPORT. GO SCRUB TRYPTICON'S INTAKE VALVES."
Americon's shoulders droop and his head slumps. "Aw, man, *again*?" But he saunters off nonetheless, and eventually he gets stuck in one of those intake valves and two other tapes have to pull him out.
Blast Off watches- and...OUCH. He even feels a little sorry for Scorn. ...A little. Very little. Actually, serves her right for shooting him in the leg. As Soundwave issues orders- and punishment- he sighs softly... but knows better than to argue. Great, just great. And how's he supposed to clean up anything hobbling around on one leg? First- repairs... which he intends to make last as long as possible. He slips towards the door, trying to fade away into the background.
Buzzsaw is, as mentioned, perched on Soundwave's arm, glaring daggers at everyone involved in this farce... though, as Soundwave drops to a knee, that causes the condor to shoot him a glare as well. So, yes, he may trust the tape commander, but...well, there's something about the call that has him-
OH! It was a joke. HAH. Buzzsaw's beak clicks as he grins inwardly, turning to glare at the others.
Panic is pretty much racing through Scorn's mind at Soundwave's approach despite the cool look on her face. But even this falls away when he.. Is he kneeling?? Optics widen and mouth falls agape at the display before her, looking completely shocked. True, she wanted this to happen eventually, but seeing it happen right now is beyond shocking. Luckily Soundwave doesn't keep the ruse up long and gives Scorn her just desserts.
"Ergh!!" Before Scorn can even think, the fist connects and sends her flying well across the room and into the far wall, dropping the device in the process. It knocks her senseless, having to take a moment before she can pull herself back together and groan in pain. The crumpled Insecticon heap shifts and she slowly sits up, jaw dented and energon flowing from between her lips.
"C.. Commander, please.. have mercy.." She grunts, shifting jaw painfully and spitting out a few razor sharp teeth.
Triggerhappy is just so smug right now. Because he saw this coming. "Ha! I told you all so!" he laughs, and then waltzes out of there. Psh, mechs and their mad drives for power. Brought nothing but trouble!
"Triggerhappy totally grabbed that thing too!" Americon says from around a corner, then runs.
Soundwave takes the moment to LOOM over the fallen Scorn, his hands still clenched into fists. He steps closer, as if ready to finish the job, then leans down to pick up the IFF transmitter. He stands back up, "TRIGGERHAPPY, YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS AS DO THE OTHERS."
He taps his shoulder...the one Buzzsaw's not moved to, "LASERBEAK, EJECT." A tape jettisons, all cowardice and petty vengeance. "LASERBEAK, ENSURE ALL PARTICIPANTS HERE FOLLOW THROUGH WITH 120 HOURS OF TRYPTICON MAINTENANCE, AS PER PROTOCOL 12.1" The other condor squawks, then homes in on Triggerhappy. This lens-headed sneak will certainly be watching.
Soundwave closes his hand around the IFF transmitter, a crunching sound is heard...though a very perceptive person might ascertain that he didn't destroy it. "THIS MASS STUPIDITY IS ENOUGH FOR A FIRING SQUAD. CONTRAIL AND THE DECEPTICON JUSTICE DIVISION HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR NEW EXAMPLES TO BE MADE." He pauses, "REMEMBER THIS MOMENT, THE REPORT THAT I WILL ASSESS WILL DETERMINE YOUR OUTCOME NOW, THAT YOUR LIVES...ALL OF THEM, ARE NOW IN MY HANDS" He looks towards Americon, "YOU ARE FREE TO GO, AMERICON."
Nepotism? Indeed, but mostly because Soundwave's to blame for him being like that, and there's always something worth sweeping under the rug. He turns about, then heads towards his own quarters. It's been a long day already...
Buzzsaw preens. Yes, yes, watch them all squabble and bicker and cower under the watchful optic of Buz-wait... Laserbeak? LASERBEAK!?! Buzzsaw looks at the red-painted condor with a very upfront glare. Honestly, how is that sniveling coward going to keep them all in check? He also takes the chance to shoot Americon a stare for...well, starting this nonsense to begin with.
Americon, still running from possible retribution from Triggerhappy, just yells, "OKAY!" back at Soundwave as he goes running off.
Scorn grimaces hard at the mention of the DJD and Contrail. She doesn't want to get mixed up in them.. "Hn.. Yes, sir.." She grates out, slowly rising to her feet as Soundwave leaves. She isn't quick to go carry out her punishment, but she gets there eventually after visiting the medbay. And yes, she'll be complaining and fussing during the whole thing with her plans ruined. So much for that, guess it's back to her usual work.
Blast Off slips away, especially not wanting any more attention after the "DJD" is mentioned. Former Renegade Decepticons do NOT want a reason to go back on the DJD's list. Nope.