Knock Out (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flashyfinish) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
robothell2015-05-08 09:37 pm
flashyfinish) wrote in robothell2015-05-08 09:37 pm
[open] Hᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀ ᴍɪʀᴀᴄʟᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ
Who: Knock Out and you!
Where: The crater, then wandering through the city
When: Now I guess?
What: introooo pooooost
Warnings: this post contains a robot at least 25% prettier than your robot
A.
Knock Out feels like he has awoken from a long, long period of stasis when his eyes come on, staring up into a sky filled with stars.
This... was not where he had last been.
Slowly sitting up, he looks around, at a part of Cybertron unfamiliar to his eye; no surprise there, when he spent so very many hours acting as medic to the still-suspicious Autobots, but he has to wonder who decided it was a good idea to prank the only Medic on Cybertron.
"It had to be Smokescreen," he mumbles to himself, and opens up his communications. "This is Knock Out, requesting a groundbridge back to base," he relays, climbing to his feet and dusting away the bits of rust and metal clinging to his finish. Ugh, had something on his back gotten scratched? He'd need to find someone to buff that out when he returned. "Now would be good."
No reply, and no bridge.
"Hello? Are you people ignoring me? Smokescreen, I swear the next time you come in, I'm going to key your doors for this."
Nothing.
"Primus damn them all," Knock Out grumbles beneath his breath, and glances around, looking more closely for some kind of landmark, or perhaps something on the horizon, or-- a crater filled with raw energon? Well, there's a bounty, and while he should probably make his way back to the Autobots... he instead begins picking his way down to it, still unaware that this world isn't his world, and that there's every chance in the world that someone might spot him and begin to hassle him.
B.
Having been informed of his dimensional displacement, Knock Out is not terribly pleased. He's alone on a Cybertron from another dimension, filled with robots he doesn't know, has no authority over, and might well get shot at by, and his favorite toy had last been in Smokescreen's reckless hands, leaving him with no defense but his buzzsaws and drill and speed; not the most robust arsenal, to be sure.
Still, at least he's not being chased down by a hoard of energon-sucking zombies or reanimated Predacons or Literally Unicron, making this not the worst situation he's ever been in. Number four or five, really.
Grumbling to himself, he keeps an eye on the sky and the other on the half-broken city around him, not realizing that he's being drawn to the center of the city as he walks.
Where: The crater, then wandering through the city
When: Now I guess?
What: introooo pooooost
Warnings: this post contains a robot at least 25% prettier than your robot
A.
Knock Out feels like he has awoken from a long, long period of stasis when his eyes come on, staring up into a sky filled with stars.
This... was not where he had last been.
Slowly sitting up, he looks around, at a part of Cybertron unfamiliar to his eye; no surprise there, when he spent so very many hours acting as medic to the still-suspicious Autobots, but he has to wonder who decided it was a good idea to prank the only Medic on Cybertron.
"It had to be Smokescreen," he mumbles to himself, and opens up his communications. "This is Knock Out, requesting a groundbridge back to base," he relays, climbing to his feet and dusting away the bits of rust and metal clinging to his finish. Ugh, had something on his back gotten scratched? He'd need to find someone to buff that out when he returned. "Now would be good."
No reply, and no bridge.
"Hello? Are you people ignoring me? Smokescreen, I swear the next time you come in, I'm going to key your doors for this."
Nothing.
"Primus damn them all," Knock Out grumbles beneath his breath, and glances around, looking more closely for some kind of landmark, or perhaps something on the horizon, or-- a crater filled with raw energon? Well, there's a bounty, and while he should probably make his way back to the Autobots... he instead begins picking his way down to it, still unaware that this world isn't his world, and that there's every chance in the world that someone might spot him and begin to hassle him.
B.
Having been informed of his dimensional displacement, Knock Out is not terribly pleased. He's alone on a Cybertron from another dimension, filled with robots he doesn't know, has no authority over, and might well get shot at by, and his favorite toy had last been in Smokescreen's reckless hands, leaving him with no defense but his buzzsaws and drill and speed; not the most robust arsenal, to be sure.
Still, at least he's not being chased down by a hoard of energon-sucking zombies or reanimated Predacons or Literally Unicron, making this not the worst situation he's ever been in. Number four or five, really.
Grumbling to himself, he keeps an eye on the sky and the other on the half-broken city around him, not realizing that he's being drawn to the center of the city as he walks.
no subject
He reaches over to gather up as much energon as he can. Looks like he and Sideswipe will be eating tonight. “Weird, didn't think there were any other bots 'round here that ain't totally crazy.”
no subject
"Unless you're all alone out here...?"
no subject
With energon in hand, he shakes his head, "Nah, Sideswipe's 'round here somewhere. Why?"
no subject
His smile is utterly unoffensive.
"So is the population here very thinly spread?" he asks, because nothing's better for information than someone who's too dumb to figure out he's being pumped for information.
no subject
“I unno,” he shrugs, “There's like a few folks around here. For the most part it looks pretty empty.”