ready for nothing [open]

[chickscream]

Who: Slipstream, her confusion, and YOU!
Where: A ruined, empty street or sky.
When: RIGHT NOW
What: Intro/bafflement post
Warnings: A snarky angry seeker lady who hates her dad


A.

Slipstream was already ready to go home.

Oh, sure, Detroit wasn't that great, and she'd spent a lot of time dodging under the radar and swinging across the lake to Canada (where the Autobots never set their feet, for some reason), but it was all the home she had ever known in her own right, besides her brief stint on Earth's moon.

Her memories of other homes weren't her own, and she ignored them as best as she could, ignored the echoing deja-vu of these streets. It looked like... a place Starscream had known, once, but torn apart and ravaged, like in the wake of a battle; it looked like no place she had ever been, and the stars were arrayed in shapes unknown to her optics.

Pressed back against a wall and with her optics narrowed, Slipstream was just about ready to jump out of her plating and shoot the first thing that surprised her.

B.

Taking to the skies, Slipstream circled tightly in jet mode, taking in the view.

She hadn't even realized how much she liked greenery until there was none, how lively organics were until she was in a place of metal and gears.

Unsettled, she braked and switched back to her more customary form, hovering and looking over the city. It spread further than Detroit ever did, pocked with craters and destruction-- a wholly inhospitable-looking place, in her opinion, and probably no fun to get back home from.

"Sparks, this place is awful," she tells the air, and swoops down over the city looking for more signs of life-- familiar or otherwise, she doesn't care, as long as it's not Starscream himself-- beyond whoever greeted her first. If someone wanted to hail her down to the ground, she'd go, no matter who; and if someone wants to come up and bother her, she'll probably not shoot them.

Comments

[loyaute]

Oh, Arcee does. Her smirk only widens as she lets go - shoving herself off from the wall and letting herself fall. Cute trick, Slipstream, but her free hand goes to her other sword and lights it up as well, using them both to shield herself from the heavier and more dangerous bits of rubble that fall on her. Her landing isn't the best, but Arcee knows how to use her momentum to roll herself out of harm's way.

Sure, there's one or two hefty dents in her plating, but they barely register. "Nice trick," she says with a jerk of her head towards Slipstream. And then she shoves herself to her feet and puts as much power into the jetpack as she can, rocketing up with both swords aimed - not for Slipstream's chest or face, but the jets on her feet.

Joke about her only coming up to your ankle again, Slipstream.

[chickscream]

Slipstream doesn't even look back as she flies up, planning how she'll pick off her opponent from the air, until the roar of jets besides her own and the strikes to her heels hit her.

Yelping in surprise, she tumbles end-over-end through the air, twisting to catch a look at what had hit her-- did the little Autobot have missiles-- and expression turning to stunned dismay when she sees the little pink bot is in the air with her.

"Autobots don't fly!" she objects, because they don't, and this femme doesn't even have wings like Optimus had when she'd shot at him, mistaking him for her creator. "That's not fair!" And her thrusters are sparking and pained from the slashes landed across them, a burning pain and unpleasant stink of fried metal and plastic from the flaming blades, which is doubly unfair.

Even more serious now, she levels her guns at the Autobot, letting off a volley and trying to get more space between them. Swords are short-range; if she gets far enough away, she ought to be able to go back to her original plan, sniping and strafing from safety.

After all, everyone knows that Autobots are never heavily armed, and definitely don't use guns.

[loyaute]

"Really? Tell that to the three I can name off the top of my head." She's not used to being able to fly, however, and in the moment or two it takes her to swerve out of the way she's lost her advantage when it comes to close range fighting. That's okay though, Arcee can work with that. "Life isn't fair, Decepticon."

Her gun isn't made for long distance shooting, but it will get the job done - and Arcee stows away one of the swords in exchange to pull it out and fire a few rounds in the general direction of one of Slipstream's wings.

Even if Slipstream was familiar with Autobots from Arcee's universe, she'd find out that she's an exception for them as well.

[chickscream]

She's beginning to think that she shouldn't take her eyes off the Autobot, because it takes just a quick glance to make sure the skies above them are clear for the Autobot to produce a gun and start shooting it. It's not even a built-in gun! She's holding it, in her hand, like-- like a human cop!

Slipstream is starting to regret agreeing to this dance. Sure, she's no coward, but apparently this bot has unexpected tools at her disposal. What more might she have stowed away?

And then she gets clipped in the wing, and really regrets getting involved in this dance.

"Ow!" she yelps, and makes a strategic retreat, dropping down to land between two buildings and checking over her wing. It's not bad, but clearly she needs to be taking this way, way more seriously-- this Autobot actually seems to be trained, and Slipstream isn't incompetent, but all her own training is whatever Starscream learned over several million years of considering Autobots to be barely worth his time. She curses him, silently, for being so awful and leaving her with only a little bit to draw on, and crouches into cover, veiling the Allspark energy that gives away her position and aiming upwards, waiting in kind-of ambush for the Autobot to show herself.

[loyaute]

For a given amount of trained, sure. You pick up some skills when you kill your way through the universe looking for a specific individual. But none of that included flying, so Arcee drops out of the air and onto the roof of a building, stowing the gun. Swords are what she feels comfortable with - swords and with something solid under her feet.

"Disappointing," she calls, grinning still. "I thought you'd have more fight than that."

What good were Decepticons if they couldn't at least give her a challenge? Arcee has a flash of tinged regret that she and Galvatron never really got settled into a fight before she was dragged here; that's one she's interesting in having. She's content to wait until the other shows her head, if she feels like it. Too long, though, and she'll have to go hunting. Which she's done before - and somehow Arcee thinks this one isn't going to be as much of a challenge as Jhiaxus was.