by O.G. » Sat Mar 04, 2017 6:35 am
(( Sorry about the delay on my post. I tried to post between classes yesterday, but the computer thought it would be a great idea to log me out when I tried to submit the post. ))
Just before Whiteout could initiate a specific search, a massive electric pulse exploded across his internal sensory system that swept away his attention in an instant. No, the femme was not forgotten, though his priorities had duly been shifted. He honed in on the staggering amount of energy, pinpointing its coordinates and translating the data received from the area. The source appeared to be that of some kind of bio organic organism, and a rather large one at that. Today just keeps getting interesting, he thought mischievously to himself. Whiteout, no matter how aloof and detached, contradicted himself in his pervasive interest in strangers. They could never be ignored, and he did not intend upon making an exception this time, even though experience might tell him that luck with strangers was not on his side today. Such foreboding fact, however, was hardly a deterrent. In fact, it served quite conversely--it fueled Whiteout's desire all the more to investigate this wildly strange occurrence.
Whiteout surveyed the area beyond the coordinates he had pinpointed, making note of two distinct Cybertronian signatures (one of which was converging quickly upon the location while the other was already present upon the coordinates), as well as two carbon-based ones. The potential prospects of such a crowd excited Whiteout, though, before he could formally set off to all of the commotion, he detected another Cybertronian signature over a mile beneath him. He honed in on the signature, his spark suddenly gripped as he recognized it as that which belonged to the femme he had been seeking. She was heading in the same direction as the commotion, and, when Whiteout realized this, he smirked to himself. Surely if she were attracted to the mess, there was more than a slight chance that she knew somebot involved in it. After all, she didn't seem too friendly towards strangers. Taking it upon himself to beat the vessel of speed, Whiteout thrust his engines into partial overdrive, cutting through the sky at the very threshold of sound. It took him no time at all to reach the coordinates of the since subsided pulse of electrical energy, and he had sorely beat the oblivious femme. Rather pleased with himself, Whiteout, from the fringes of the atmosphere, circled over the scene at a modulated speed, taking a closer look at what awaited him below, determining such things as weaponry, com link frequencies, and other such useful items of information. In the end, he decided that the large bio organic beast was not someone to approach unless he was willing to accept the possibility of a rather brutal battle. Perhaps he should wait to see who the femme knew, and, in the meantime, he thought as he observed a tiny earth female scampering from the junkyard where the bio organic organism had apparently emerged, he could entertain himself in other ways.
Tapping into the different wavelengths of communication utilized by every bot beneath him, Whiteout's single thruster burst forth with blue flame as he suddenly took a nose dive towards the scene, his crosshairs locked upon the tiny earthling female who was attempting to hurry away with an armful of scraps. Long after his warning systems were sent screeching and flashing at him warning of imminent impact with Earth's surface, Whiteout pulled up from his suicide dive and transformed barely a few hundred feet into the air, spraying a perfect circle of ice around the female as a makeshift landing strip as he unsheathed the blades on the underside of his feet. With surprisingly graceful intensity, he landed right in front of the female and whipped around her on his circular landing strip, blades grinding against it all the while, until he came to a smooth stop in precisely the place he had landed. He peered down at the fleshy earthling, more than intrigued. It was not often he found an excuse to blow his cover, but since somebot had already blow their kind's cover, and since she was trapped in a ring of ice... Whiteout grinned. "My my, this must be quite the day of crisis for you. Is it true that your species believes itself to be unique among galaxies otherwise void of other lifeforms?" His question may have been antagonizing, but Whiteout mean no real harm. He liked shock value, and once he had relished it, he thought he might try to befriend the girl enough that she would be willing to offer him some real world insight of her mysterious little planet, full of little lifeforms.
Shockwave, as he worked on pinpointing the sources of his generator's multiple malfunctions, continued listening the the adjacent conversation. It became clear very quickly that Nightshade was no femme of science, and likely she would never be. It took an especially small and narrow mind to dismiss any life form as irrelevant. Though Shockwave had been prepared to terminate the life of the human Pharma had in his possession, he could not deny the potential value he saw in the human race, however insignificant on their own. Though, while he had been serving under Megatron, he had focused his time and expertise on the resurrecting of the ancient Predacons, he had now mastered that and had gained a rather extensive understanding of their strengths and weaknesses as forces against the Autobots. Though he well intended upon fine tuning their effectiveness, he was ready to pursue other means of weaponry, and, unlike many Decepticons, Shockwave saw potential use in the human race. Once cause and purpose within the Decepticon ranks was established, Shockwave saw himself experimenting upon the humans, pushing them to their limits, testing their resilience against death, becoming familiar with their biology through dissections. Such could easily be done, and he could surely find a way to merge their genetics with that of the Cybertronian. It was a prospect he would not have even deigned to entertain if not for one simple fact--the weak-minded Autobots showed far too much hesitance to crush even the most malicious of humans. He could breed a hybrid army with equal fierceness to that of a legion of hungry scraplets, only the Autobots would not dare to swat this army away.
Through all of his thoughts and manipulation of his computer, Shockwave still did not fail to miss Pharma's words, which ran rather parallel to his own plotting. He turned his blank-faced optic to the scientist then, finding himself unexpectedly congruous with a mech who was most likely the source of his generator's failure to function. "Your logic is sound," he concurred, turning his focus then upon Nightshade. "The Autobots reveal folly in their exalted sense of morality. Their refusal to terminate any human life form makes it impossible to ignore the potential effectiveness of a genetically modified army of humans." Shockwave's zeal in pushing science to its every limit could have easily guided him to spelling out all of the details, but he was servant first to logic and thus realized the error in such ramblings at the current time. "Though it is not particularly wise to be discussing such matters now, when our presence is yet vulnerable to detection." He turned his gaze back to Pharma. "The matter of your intrusion and the strategic significance of the humans can wait for another time. Are you the one responsible for my field generator's malfunctions?" he inquired monotonously, seeing no logic in accusatory tones or anything of the like.
Hijack clung to Arachnid's every word, memorizing every tone and syllable, so that he might not misunderstand or misconstrue any part of his queen's thoughts and wishes. It did not prevent him from being surprised by the swiftness in which his fellow soldiers had located a lab to be used by him. By the Allspark, a lab for him. Him! And Arachnid desired for him to get to work there as soon as they arrived. His spark began to race, his energon surging through its conduits as though he had just raced around the world. He had created the acid a thousand times in the past, but what if he failed to create it now, in front of his queen? The prospect of disappointing her was wrenching, though he had to shake such terrifying possibilities from his mind.
As Arachnid reached out for the data pad he held, Hijack handed it off readily, though he almost fumbled it upon Arachnid's decadent, stunning promise. For the first time since he had served under Arachnid, Hijack broke in her presence from his respectful bow, his helm whipping up for his wide eyes to gawk at her from behind their large, obscuring shields. His spark stopped beating in his chassis. Promoted? His glorious queen...promote a worthless scrap heap such as himself? He had always imagined it, had always dreamed of it in his wildest fantasies... Was this another cruel dream, waiting for him to wake up and be reminded that he was buried beneath the talents of Arachnid's true warriors? If Hijack could have articulated it, he still would have stuttered to express his most humble and shocked confusion, and then he realized it. No! Insubordination! How dare he think to question his queen's decisions, and how dare he look up at her now! The latter part of his realization struck him with a start. He had broken his most humble and servile display of loyalty!
Barely retraining from a gasp, Hijack jolted back down into the proper bowing posture, though he could not help but for his wings to give a slight shudder in his awe. Arachnid, his one and only queen, saw potential in him and saw it fit to reward him if he could prove her interest to be of significance. And he would. He would serve his queen as she deserved to be served--with total, subservient perfection, or he would die trying. To show himself ready for her task, Hijack then transformed, awaiting her command and lead.
Mods, please don't ban us! Me and Chibby-dono are siblings and we sometimes trade unfairly.
Formerly called I-am-CC.