[New RPG] The Two Solitudes: Iacon (Autobot)

Look back over the last decade-plus worth of games!
Locked
User avatar
Warcry
Posts: 13934
Joined: Fri Aug 23, 2002 4:10 am
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

['New RPG'] The Two Solitudes: Iacon (Autobot)

Post by Warcry »

Cybertron is a glorious jewel, the hub of a culture that spans an entire solar system, a culture that has begun to slowly but surely reach out to other stars as well. A beacon of order and civilization, its government keeps the peace and ensures the free flow of trade, people, information and ideas across inhabited space.

The brightest, most polished facet of the jewel is the massive city-state called Iacon. A shining beacon of wealth and prosperity, Iacon is the capital of Cybertron and the home of the fair and wise Zeta Prime. His soldiers, the Autobots, ensure the safety of all of Cybertron's people while his priests tend to their spiritual needs and a veritable army of public servants keep the machinery of government running smoothly.

But all is not well elsewhere.

In the impoverished, decaying city-state of Kaon, a would-be tyrant called Megatron has seized power. He and his Decepticon thugs have overrun Kaon, oppressing any who dare speak up in favour of Zeta Prime even as they welcome heretics, subversives and criminals from across Cybertronian space into their midst.

No one in Iacon wants to see a war, but as the crimes of Megatron and his followers grow larger and larger can it possibly be avoided?
User avatar
Warcry
Posts: 13934
Joined: Fri Aug 23, 2002 4:10 am
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Post by Warcry »

Trainyards, Iacon

Red Alert looked at the crime scene, a slight frown on his face. "There's your problem," he said, gesturing offhandedly at the cargo lifter. Or rather, at the impaled corpse that was hanging off of one of its' forks.

The beat officer on the scene gave him a weary look and said, "It's obviously an accident. Just sign the papers and we can all go home early."

"Not so fast," Red told him. He slid a pack of energon goodies out of a storage compartment on his leg, slipped one out and slowly started chewing on it. As he did, he walked in a circle around the loader, occasionally stopping to sniff or squint at something.

"An accident, you say?"

"Yes, sir," the officer told him. "All of these loaders get their orders from a main computer. This one's programming hasn't been tampered with, so it must have been doing what the computer told it to. Best I can figure, its motion-sensor malfunctioned. It didn't see the victim in front of it until it hit him, and then its emergency system triggered the brakes."

"Did it?" Red Alert dropped to his haunches. "Funny that there's no skid marks on the ground, then."

The officer's jaw worked, but Red didn't give him a chance to get another word out. "And look at this gentlemech's paintwork. Far too clean and scratch-free for a dockworker. No, something doesn't quite add up here."

The officer looked like he was about to say something else, but Red cut him off again. "Does he have a name?"

"No, sir," the officer said. "He's not in the yards' employee database, and no one who was at the scene recognized him."

"A mysterious stranger wanders into the trainyards and gets mysteriously impaled by a mysteriously malfunctioning loader that mysteriously stops malfunctioning as soon as he's dead, and you call it an accident?"

"I...suppose so, sir," the officer said, abashed.

"Well, I don't," Red Alert told him. "I call it a mystery."

(OOC: Cue Nightbeat, Heinrad? :) )
User avatar
optimusskids
Protoform
Posts: 6981
Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
Location: UK

Post by optimusskids »

Backstreet

Weirdwolf loped along

pay going to they were all those who looked down on him had . Those who thought their residual waste products were odourless. He had to restrain himself from his inclination to rip into them. If he made it look like an accident he could get more of them before they realised what was happening. If they running scared were and if the Bronzes got involved then some of them might escape.



Frontiers Download Store

Squawktalk sat on a perch and with a stylus downloaded his signature onto the datapad held in front of him.

"There you go, enjoy Shock Wave the latest aventures of Blade archeologist extroardinaire."

Despite his normal demeanour Squawktalk was a worried mech. His publisher had been acting strange ever since he'd submitted the outline for his idea for a non fiction download. Then there was his appartment he was almost convinced it had been searched. The work would contradict some of the churches beliefs but the evidence was there in the dig. The excavation had shown what it had shown."

Trying to act normally Squawktalk turned to the next in the queue.

"How would you like me to personalise my signature download?"

~*~

Trainyards Iacon

Scoop rumbled across the yard heading for the small gaggle of mechs. it looked like there was a story here after all. Good old police scanners.

He transformed and strode across towards the mechs.

"What havewe here then a murder?"

He fished out a datapad and a stylus.
Image
User avatar
Heinrad
Posts: 6280
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!

Post by Heinrad »

Trainyards, Iacon:


Nightbeat, down on one knee, ran an analyzer over the ground, scowling slightly as he did so. "Impact was back here......" He turned his head, looking at the skidmarks that started roughly ten feet after the impact point. He looked back, keen optics picking up an odd scuff pattern. "Interesting." Standing, he moved over to the hanging body, grabbed the left leg and lifted it to examine the sole of the foot. "The victim walked with a slight limp. Whoever he was, he was supposed to meet somebody here. At a guess, he was early for the appointment. There's signs of him wandering around this area, trying to stay out of sight. And at the time he was supposed to meet whoever it was....." He shrugged. "Whamo! He has an epic failure in the forklift dodging department." He pulled a data reader our of a panel on his hip and hooked it into the forklift's onboard computer. "Hmmmmmm......."

**********************
Hub-Palace of the Elders, Iacon:


Fear. Everybody feels it on their first day at work, at their first duty assignment.

But then, most people felt that they'd earned the right.

Orion wasn't so sure that he had. He looked up, taking in the height of the ancient structure, the center of pretty much everything on Cybertron. Here was the hub of power. Here was where all of the politicians and leaders gathered to make laws and policies. Here was where all of the decisions were made that kept Cybertron going.

Here was where he'd been assigned after graduation from the War Academy. Much to Sentinel's apparent annoyance.

The thought that he'd done so well, gotten this assignment despite everything the commandant had put him through, every disparaging remark.... if Orion had a mouth, he'd have smiled at the thought.

"Impressive lookin' junkheap, ain't it."

Orion turned, and standing next to him was the one of the oldest Autobots he'd ever seen. Nobody used the solid tactical display units anymore, nobody'd used them in vorns. Everybody had gone to imbedded H.U.D.s a long time ago. Part of the reason being that having your face completely covered by an admittedly transparent plate was an asset in battle, but not terribly practical at any other time, not to mention the limitation of having the HUD end at the edges of the plate.

"You got a probl'm, kid? Yer starin' at me lahke Ah'm th' second comin'a Zeta Prahme."

"Oh? Oh! Uh.... no.... No, sir. I've just never seen anybody with one of those tactical units before. Aren't they obsolete?"

The old Autobot scowled. "Obsolete's a state'a mahnd. 'Sahdes, Ah got enough built-in gear that Ah don't need th' upgrade." Just 'cause it's new don't mean it's somthin' ya need."

Orion nodded. "I'll.... remember that, sir."

"You better remember that, kid. Yer name's Orion, an' yer mah assistant. Ah'm Ironhide. C'mon, Ah'll give ya th' 5 shanix tour." And with that, the old Autobot strode into the palace, leaving a stunned Orion to come to his senses and follow.
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......

3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
User avatar
optimusskids
Protoform
Posts: 6981
Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
Location: UK

Post by optimusskids »

Palace of the Elders

Night Stalker materialised from the shadows.

"alright Boss? Is this the fresh oil then? Pleased to meet ya names Night Stalker.
Image
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

Post by Blackjack »

War Academy, Iacon

Sentinel snorted as he glanced through the window at the greenhorn recruits to the Autobot forces getting inspected by the medical drones. In a few minutes' time he would have to introduce himself to them, and make their life hell for the next few months or so.

The thought brought a smile to Sentinel's face.

He had been frowning more than usual, due to Orion's promotion. The gall of that upstart! Somehow he had been assigned as part of the Hall of Elders...

It wasn't so much that he enjoyed tormenting others, although there is that. It was more of the satisfaction of grinding the new Autobots, the way someone would grind a blade against a flint. Without meeting difficulties and hardness one cannot aspire greatness. Sentinel would be exactly that to the new recruits. The recruits were those who wanted to serve with the army, to get high pay while hunting down criminals and getting ready for any threat Cybertron might face.

To the world, Sentinel was a stuck-up jerk. That stuck-up bit was true, but being a jerk was for the Autobots' own good. It did make him unpopular, but Sentinel's methods was second only to Kup's. Every single one of the Autobots he trained had became successful soldiers.

Sentinel always prided himself with his strict adherence to military protocol. Everything he does, he does it by the book. Protocol was there for a reason. It was the only way, by strict adherence and hardwork, that he could reach the relatively high position he was in now. Something that that accursed Orion somehow could surpass. Who knows, one day he could be a field commander, or, if destiny goes his way, a Prime.

Ah, to be a Prime, to be chosen by the Matrix of Leadership, to be chosen by destiny itself, to lead... it was the ultimate honour.

But Zeta Prime just refused to die- Sentinel shook his head hard to clear those thoughts. No. Don't think about that. Don't ever think about that. "Don't forget that you're an Autobot." Sentinel murmured under his breath.

"Er, something the problem, sir?"

"Nope. Do you see any problem?" Sentinel snapped harshly.

"Um... you kind of shook your head for no apparent reason?" Warpath was unphased, the shorter yet stockier Autobot already used to Sentinel's outbursts.

"Is that a problem?"

"Uh... No?"

"No? Then get a filter on that mouth, soldier!"

"Yes sir."

Sentinel walked out towards the courtyard, Warpath right behind him. Despite the tone he used, Sentinel trusted his bodyguard to do his job. Warpath was a good soldier. Whilst Sentinel wasn't exactly a stranger to warfare himself, he was more a trainer than a real field commander.

Sentinel walked up and regarded the row of new recruits that filed out obediently, an expression of contempt in his optics as he folded his thick arms and scrutinized them. Warpath stood on Sentinel's right, pale blue optics apathetic to the fate of Sentinel's newest cadre of recruits.

Ah, something to let out his annoyance upon. To bad for them. He began pacing as he addressed the recruits. "Now, scraplets, I am Sentinel, your instructor. You will refer to me as sir, and none other. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

"You want to join the Autobot army. You want to become one of the gears that makes this army turn. But not everyone has what it takes to survive the training. Some of you losers just come for the pay, or just for the hell of it. I am here to weed the weaklings and pretenders among you out, so you don't have to die on my watch." Sentinel narrowed his optics as he jabbed a finger onto the chest plate of an Autobot. "YOU are unprepared for war. And you. And you. And you too. And every single one of you down the line. We clear?"

Sentinel drew back and began pacing again. "My word here is law, we clear on that? Everything I say, goes. I tell you to transform, you transform. I tell you to shoot, you shoot. If I tell you to jump off a cliff, you jolly well go jump off a cliff. In battles one does not question their commanding officers' orders, no matter how stupid the order may sound. I am here to drill all of these into your minds. I will put you through exercises that will stretch your physical and mental capabilities as far as they can go. By the end of this day some of you losers will want to cry and go back home to harvest energon or build warehouses or whatever it is you do."

Warpath folded his arms in front of him, resting them on the tank cannon that portruded out of his chest. He didn't agree with the gruelling training Sentinel put his recruits through, but he had his orders. One of the recruits met Warpath's optics with alarm in his, but Warpath only shrugged. Anyone who enlisted in the army expecting anything less deserved to get their exhausts whipped into place by Sentinel.

Sentinel's optics narrowed as he paraphrased something he had overheard Kup saying.. "Now let's see how many of you I can break in this cycle."
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

Post by Blackjack »

Stellar Galleries, Iacon

Obsidian loved this chamber.

This large, spherical chamber that contained a large, meticulously crafted sculpture of Cybertron, depicted in real time as it rotated, models of her satellites rotating lazily around her. It was a beautiful piece of art, with each spire, each sector carved to the utmost detail and the rotation controlled by a system of magnetic fields around the room. It was sculpted by a jointwork of artists. Slog. Buzzsaw. Scrapper.

The Stellar Galleries' main chamber was a substantially more spectacular affair, a huge three-dimensional, fully interactive rendition of the galaxy. It encompassed enough space for several dozen Transformers to fly around. All the stars, all the planets and moons and pulsars and black holes and whatever it is that filled the galaxy...

Hardly anyone who visited the Stellar Galleries ever comes into the humble little chamber that displayed the beauty of Cybertron.

Everybody wants to see the stars.

Can't they understand? They try so hard to reach the stars, when they have everything they had right here on Cybertron. The one true gem among the sea of blackness of space.

And Cybertron's own children were killing her softly. The Golden Age has slowly declined. Corruption is rife and many of Cybertron's regions have fallen into disrepair.

Obsidian sighed. Here he was, the general of Cybertron, the vanguard of her armies, the strategist that had so many times defended Cybertron from her enemies. Obsidian was a veritable legend during his days. While not much of a fighter himself, Obsidian was a master strategist, a chess-master. His strategems did not always mean his soldiers come out alive, but it did mean that Cybertron always emerged victorious.

But how to protect Cybertron from herself?

Obsidian's brain racked at this. When peacetime had came, Obsidian had been happy. No more extraterrestrial threats. But only recently had he realized that the battles he had fought in had been for nothing. Very few others loved Cybertron, which was appalling. All the harvesting of her natural resources, destroying the natural terrain with scientific experiments...

Obsidian shook his head. So sad. His function was clear as day when he had first came online — defend Cybertron. It had always been, first and foremost, the only thing in his mind. It was the sole purpose of existence.

Oh, sure, he still had his wartime ranks, nearly a dozen of them, 'General of Cybertron' being his preferred and default one. But unlike Kup or Ironhide, Obsidian had found adapting to life in the new army difficult and tiresome, with nothing to test his mettle.

So one day he had left.

He hovered around the room. He had to hover — he had no legs to speak off, and his entire lower body from the chest down was a weak sting-like appendage that couldn't support his weight. Rather, it served more for balance, to control where he wanted to go. He hovered and moved with the rotor blades that were stationed over his shoulders, constantly rotating to keep an updraft that allowed him to remain aloft. His fingers — nay, claws — were long, threadlike and sprouted out of his flat wrists. Red, sharp, intelligent optics that had taken in the horrors of war took in the contours of the sculpture Cybertron. It was nowhere as grand as the real thing herself, but it was still beautiful.

From a quick glance Obsidian looked deadly, like a wasp, if horribly fragile. If even one of those rotors were hit, he would've been grounded and without the ability to stand, it would've been the end of him.

Which was why he was created by whatever Vector node that had sparked him with the role of leading and organizing in mind. Physical battle was never his forte, though he had seen his share of it.

Obsidian sighed. In the end, all the battles he had fought would have been for vain if something was not done about the government.

He hovered out of the chamber, shoulders sagging as he hovered out of the Stellar Galleries. "Obsidian: obliterate." Obsidian whispered. Perhaps he was one of the few Transformers left who still used command codes to transform into vehicle mode. While it was unnecessary, and he had the upgrades for automatic transformation installed to him, Obsidian always found the habit hard to break.

As a sleek, twin-rotored helicopter he took to the skies, rotors whupping sadly as he flew aimlessly above an Iacon whose golden luster seemed dull that moment.

Something has to be done...
User avatar
tahukanuva
Posts: 1587
Joined: Wed Jul 27, 2005 2:48 am
Custom Title: Human After All
Location: Kentucky, US

Post by tahukanuva »

Iacon: Deep Underground: The Old City

"C'mon, c'mon. This.. should do... it... There!" The door suddenly swung open and Rad tumbled through. Jumping to his feet, he looked around at the massive chamber he now found himself in. "Beautiful. Absoulutely beautiful. Sunstorm, get in here! We've found it!"

"Absolutley marvelous. I've never seen architecture like this before. And look! Gears and pulleys! Sunstorm!" The Seeker had just walked into the room, and was currently analyzing some writing near the doorway. "When's the last time you saw levers and pulleys all out in the open? It's all done with magnets and circuits now. So much more boring; magnets. Wonder where all the statues are? Old temple, gotta have some statues somewhere, dun'nit?"

----------

Sunstorm was worried this trip might be a waste of time. He remembered Rad from Academy, and he was always a bit flighty. But as he examined the writing in the corridor, he grew optimistic. If this writing was indeed as old as he estimated, then even if they found nothing else (which was likely. Rad had always been lucky, but people had been searching for the old temple for years now.) then the trip would be worthwhile. An on the spot estimate placed the writing between three and five thousand years older than the earliest known copy of the Covenant. Rad had the door open now, but he needed to finish copying for proper study later.

As he finished the last letter, Sunstorm turned and walked into the chamber. Rad was mumbling something about pulleys or some nonsense. Sunstorm gaped for a second. This.. this was it. The old temple. For Sunstorm, this was a dream come true. This was the first temple ever dedicated to Primus. It had been lost ever since the first planetary war. This was the ancillary chamber, where the earliest rulers of Iacon governed. The doorway in front of him must lead to the main hall, which served as the public meeting place. This room, though somewhat decayed now, had obviously been lavishly beautiful at one point. The Seeker ran his hand down the wall and shivered with awe. This is what I live for.
User avatar
Aero Blade
Posts: 2582
Joined: Sun Feb 16, 2003 2:16 am
Location: Somewhere in subspace
Contact:

Post by Aero Blade »

Hub-Palace of the Elders, Iacon

Two forms approached the ancient structure, both of them as different as could be - one a cybertronian vehicle, and one a metallic animal (somewhat both cat-like and reptilian at the same time). Despite the immediate differences, the style of their builds seemed to match, a fact more made more apparent as they came to a stop at the edge of the structure's grounds and transformed to their robot modes. The vehicle an almost ancient male, the metal-creature a young female, but both of them in stylized armor, distinctive to any Cybertronian that would see them. As different as night and day from the rest of the mechs around them, they were a far closer match for the surrounding they were now in, and yet they still they seemed like they belonged somewhere else. Temple Knights.

The ancient guardians of sacred monuments were not typically seen so far from their structures, not unless something had happened... The two paused briefly, perhaps of some ritual of respect, before they continued towards the political building on foot. Even in the simple act of walking, the fluid movements of their training was evident, causing people to stare. The two seemed immune to the gazes, focused on their task ahead of them, whatever it might have been...


Maitenance Corridors, Iacon Depths

"Hey Raiku, you almost done yet?"

He might be considered your average mech, if not for the viser over his optics - Raiku, average maitenance worker, doing the average underappreciated maitenance work that kept the rest of the city above functioning correctly. Just one of many spending their days out of the sights of everyone else. And yet...

"Yeah, almost done, you know I've got extra to do," Raiku called back to his teammate. He turned to look back at the power relays infront of them, the the power coursing through them visible to him as bright patterns of light beneith his visor, a sight only granted to him. An average mech to most, perhaps...

An internal click, and a moment later the lights and patterns faded, the dull grey piping and corridors returning to his field of vision - the world as everyone else saw it. It was depressing sometimes, having to look at the bland maitenance surroundings, but if he didn't he'd have been stumbling over rubble or walking into walls. Better that he saw where he was going than to be stuck even longer down in the subterranian corridors.

Raiku gathered his tools and transformed, quickly catching up to the rest of his team as they proceeded back to the maitenance station, and their elevator back to the surface. Put away the equipment, update the computers, and once again Raiku was the last one there, sitting longer at the database computer than the rest of his team.

"More of your mystery readings?" One of the crew asked, already clocking out.

"Yeah. Energy anomalies are in different spots every day, seem to keep going even further each time. Don't think the boss really cares, but he wants the stuff documented anyways. Thorough records, ya know?" Raiku answered. "You guys go on ahead, I'll catch up in a few. Still on for Maccadams?"

"Yeah, we'll see you up there. Don't take too long down here or you'll miss all the good stuff. They get the new shipment in today."

"Don't worry, I'm sure even you guys can't guzzle that much fuel. Just save me a good seat," Raiku waved casually as his crew got into the lift for the surface. He plugged himself into the computer and a personal data pad, starting to record the readings from his vision centers. He gave a brief sigh as the mundane process started. Sometimes he really wondered if all of this was worth a handful of credits.
User avatar
Heinrad
Posts: 6280
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!

Post by Heinrad »

Palace of the Elders:

Orion blinked at Nightstalker's sudden appearance. "Nice to meet you, sir. I'm Orion. I've just been assigned here."

***************
Slums, Iacon:

They called the area "The Dead End", more as a joke than anything. The part of the glittering jewel of the Iaconian city-state that was where the worst elements were, the least opportunities, chronic unemployment, gangs running rampant. It's said that there's only two ways out of the Dead End: either feet first or on a prison barge.

And, as Hot Rod careened down an alley in vehicle mode with five irate gang members chasing him, as well as a squad of law enforcers, he wasn't sure if he wouldn't be the first person to leave the slum both as a corpse and a prisoner.

Pulling a sharp turn down an even tighter alley, grunting as paint scraped off the wing edges on his vehicle mode, he could hear the crunch behind him as two of the gangbangers tried to enter the alley behind him, wedging themselves in tight, not bright enough to try changing modes first.

Laughing, Hot Rod sped away, and kept laughing.... right up until he ran into the enforcers blocking the other end of the alley. Ones who not only were smart enough to transform, but were aiming their guns at him. Transforming and raising his hands in surrender, dropping the oil-splattered bundle of energon cubes, spare parts, and intoxicants that he'd just gutted a rival gang member for. "Uh, hey..... How you guys doin'?"
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......

3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

Post by Blackjack »

Skies, Iacon

Obsidian's aimless flying brought him above the Dead End region. Oh, how far had they fallen from their Golden Age! To think that such a decrepit place could exist in the city of Iacon, the capital city? It was really too much. A place where gangs fight, scramble for energon, something the government didn't much care about? Everytime Obsidian even saw the place, it was like a steel knife that twisted in his spark.

He watched as Hot Rod found himself boxed in. The strategist that was Obsidian began automatically devising several ways in which Hot Rod could escape his enemies. There were several, assuming the gangsters were stupid and slow, easy ways of doing that.

But if the law enforcers pursuing the gang ehind Hot Rod was anything to go by, this kid had broken the law. Perhaps instigated the fight himself.

Either way, this was beneath Obsidian's attention. Nothing he could do that would help Cybertron, so he ignored the battle, whupping away silently above the Dead End...
User avatar
Warcry
Posts: 13934
Joined: Fri Aug 23, 2002 4:10 am
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada

Post by Warcry »

Trainyards, Iacon

(OOC: No skidmarks, Hein. Red Alert noted that. Fuelstains, maybe?)

Red Alert scowled at Scoop. "No comment. And stay behind the tape!" he barked before adding a muttered, "The vultures are circling..."

Walking over to Nightbeat, he watched as the other detective plugged his scanner into the machine's computer. "Find anything?" he asked.

While he waited for an answer, he took a closer look at the victim and saw that his right hand was clenched shut. Carefully prying the fingers open, he pulled a small chain out of the dead robot's hands. Dangling from one end was a small religious icon.

"Interesting," he muttered.
User avatar
optimusskids
Protoform
Posts: 6981
Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
Location: UK

Post by optimusskids »

Trainyards, Iacon

Scoop shrugged and shuffled back but not as far as the tape. His token gesture completed he peered intently at what Red Alert was holding up.

He made a note on his datapad and tried to fade into the background.

~*~

Palace of the Elders

Night Stalker fell in beside Orion loping along.

"so your first day huh! You'll soon learn the ropes. Don't let the vip's intimidate you they drink their energon just the same as you and me. So what's your speciality going to be? Driver-bodyguard? ,a close-protection officer? or support you know IED detection, electronic "bug" detection, counter-sniper monitoring, pre-searches, and background-checks that kind of thing?

B]Dead End[/B]

Weirdwolf placed the playing card in the envelope and depatched it to the residence of one Mirage.

He giggled to himself.
Image
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

ooc: if someone would want to be one of Sentinel's unlucky cadets...

Post by Blackjack »

War Academy

Warpath leant backwards on a bench, arms folded atop the turret that proudly protruded from his chest, watching as Sentinel asked each one of the new recruits to impress him.

If one had a special ability or a particular skill with a certain weapon, it was easy.

Warpath chuckled as he stroked the side of his turret. It was polished, as always. Despite being a tank, Warpath was an expert sharpshooter, with the ability to fire various types of shells from his turret. Acid bombs, sonic charges, good ol' explosive, armour-piercing, cryogenic... you name it.

The first time Sentinel asked Warpath to impress him so many vorns ago, he hadn't had that much variety. But he did impress Sentinel by first sniping an energon cube off the hand of a stunned general lounging on the eighth floor, and then proceeded to impress Sentinel further by bringing down a huge chunk of the training area with a second shot.

"New recruits?" A cheery young voice asked.

The red-coloured Autobot looked up and chuckled. "Yup, Gunnie. Hey, congratulations on the promotion, kid."

"Yeah, can you believe it? Me, in command of my own unit! And I thought Sentinel always hated my guts." Gunrunner was smiling. The orange Autobot flier was holding a stack of datapads in one hand and a machinegun in the other.

"Sentinel hates everybody's guts, Gunnie. But he's a good soldier."

"Those poor kids... I remember when Sentinel trained my batch, we had to trek through the Manganese Mountains in five mega-cycles. I mean, I'm a jet so it's easy, but every member of my team had to get past. Teamwork and everything." Gunrunner grinned as he took a seat beside Warpath, watching as Sentinel shouted at one particularly unlucky cadet.

"Lucky devil, you. My batch had to find a way through the Mithril Sea. Do you know what a tank would do in a Sea? Sink, that's what!" The two shared a chuckle, and Warpath continued, "You heard what happened to Orion?"

"That red-and-blue guy? I heard Sentinel went very hard on him for some reason. What's with him?"

Warpath frowned. "Sentinel hates him for some reason. I mean, really hates him. That's weird. He usually is a jerk but he doesn't pick favourites. In one of his team's exercises somehow they got themselves landed in a live-fire exercise."

"He didn't-"

"Nah, Orion's fine. He's working in the Hall of Elders. He surpassed all expectations and emerged almost unsatched with every member of his team intact." Warpath shook his head. "Amazing record. I'd follow that kid anywhere."

Gunrunner frowned. "You think... Sentinel..."

Warpath shrugged. "Set him up? Maybe. But Sentinel doesn't seem like the type to send someone to their death. The rest of the cadets, if not Orion. He's too by-the-book for that."

"Though hate could do much to a person if allowed to..."

"No." Warpath shook his head, his voice thick with determination. "Sentinel is a jerk, a spawn of a glitch, a glory-hog and a general annoyance, but a murderer isn't in him."
User avatar
tahukanuva
Posts: 1587
Joined: Wed Jul 27, 2005 2:48 am
Custom Title: Human After All
Location: Kentucky, US

Post by tahukanuva »

Iacon, War Academy

Hardtop shuffled a bit. What had he gotten himself into? He wanted to go back home and read. Oh, Primus, Sentinel was getting closer to him. Maybe he wouldn't be called on individually, maybe? He could hope...

(ooc: @Blackjack ;) )
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

Post by Blackjack »

War Academy

Sentinel walked up to the next cadet in line, Hardtop, scowling. The instructor's foul mood with Orion's recent promotion had been exacerbated by the woefully unimpressive batch he had today.

"Now, soldier, what can you do to impress me? Let's hope you're the first one that can actually survive out of all you sorry rejects." Sentinel folded his arms. "Do whatever it is you can do, shorty."
User avatar
tahukanuva
Posts: 1587
Joined: Wed Jul 27, 2005 2:48 am
Custom Title: Human After All
Location: Kentucky, US

Post by tahukanuva »

Iacon, War Academy

Hardtop gulped and nodded, "Y-yes sir." He carefully drew his rifle and switched to the long-range barrel. He knelt down and searched for something suitable to fire at. Yes, that would do nicely. He carefully lined up the shot and fired. For a few seconds it seemed like nothing had happened, then a small object crashed to the ground about a hundred meters away. A high-altitude cyberhawk, shot down mid-flight. Hardtop stood up and looked to Sentinel sheepishly. Try as he might to hide it, he was obviously quite proud of himself.
User avatar
Heinrad
Posts: 6280
Joined: Sun Dec 23, 2001 5:00 am
Location: Riskin' it all on my Russian Roulette!

Post by Heinrad »

Trainyards, Iacon:

(OOC: Fluids it is)

Nightbeat frowned at the screen, tapping a couple of controls. "Not a thing. No power surges, no sensor errors, no technical glitches- Nothing. In fact, I'd almost swear this unit came fresh from the manufacturer if it wasn't for the general condition of the entire machine. Kind of odd, isn't it?"
As a professional tanuki (I'm a Japanese mythological animal, and a good luck charm), I have an alarm clock built into me somewhere. I also look like a stuffed animal. And you thought your life was tough......

3DS Friend Code: 1092-1274-7642
User avatar
Blackjack
Posts: 9112
Joined: Sat May 03, 2008 1:04 pm

Post by Blackjack »

War Academy

Sentinel raised an optic. Darned fool, what the heck is he doing, shooting right into the blank sky. "Did you just try to snipe the sky?"

The thump of the cyberhawk falling caught Sentinel's attention, and his considerably large lower jaw hung down. "You-" he began, wanting to snap out a depreciating comment, but stopped short.

Sentinel then laughed, clapping Hardtop on the shoulder. "That's got to be the best sniping I've ever seen! From a cadet, I mean. You fresh, but you got potential, kid."

The instructor glared down at the rest of the cadets down the line. "Well? Any of you wannabes could impress me like he did?"
______________________

"Dang." Gunrunner whistled, shaking his head. "That's a first. Never saw Sentinel forced into a compliment like that."

Warpath chuckled. "Poor kid. It means Sentinel's gonna be harder than him."

"Hey, War? Can you snipe something from that distance?"

"If it's still? Maybe. If it's moving? On a first try? Not a chance."
User avatar
optimusskids
Protoform
Posts: 6981
Joined: Mon Dec 27, 2004 11:24 am
Location: UK

Post by optimusskids »

Corridor outside Smokescreen's Office

Scavenger shuffled his feet nervously and knocked on the door.
Image
Locked