robothell | yep this is a thing

yep this is a thing

Who: Jetstorm, open but limited (plz discuss with me first)
Where: Just about ANYWHUR
When: During/after the event
What: The EVENT
Warnings: This is limited for a reason. Mini's experiences with this sort of thing have not been good and he isn't going to be affected, so he'll pull nunchucks on anyone who comes at him looking for luvvins. Cuddles might do, but he's going to be wary. Caution is advised.

The first day he noticed the flowers appear, Jetstorm didn't quite know what to think of them. He had seen an organic version of the flora on Earth and thought them beautiful. Cybertron had never seen such color, and the scents they gave off, while peculiar, were not offensive to him. Certainly they weren't to the native wildlife or the humans. Earth had a way about it that made him miss it something fierce, after having lived on war-torn Cybertron again for the short time he had. It reminded him too much of the streets and the gang he had worked for in the name of false justice, so for the sake of a change in things, he'd taken one of the flowers to his room to lighten the mood of it all.

He'd noticed the pollen floating off of it, but to him, it only served as an amusement, something to bat away playfully while he laid on his back at night under the broken desk, staring up at the dull dark of his four walls. There was a light he had managed to salvage not long after he arrived, but the pollen's soft glow added a touch to the room that he found he liked better.

Two days later, he threw the flower out in a hurry. It started with odd sounds from some of the others, sounds that put a squeeze on his spark in a bad way, and a lot of them to boot. The first incident he had come across sounded like someone might have been in pain, and in his want to help them, he had foolishly rushed closer. A few seconds of shock later, his feet had him bolting from the scene. The second incident, he took to with more caution and less haste. By the third time - in the same day - he had given up his salvage venture and gone home.

Something had come over most of the residents on Cybertron. It took him time before he thought of pinning the cause on the appearance of the flowers, and then he thought to go out and take on the nigh-impossible task of destroying at least the ones immediately around his home building, for all the good that would do him. Beautiful though they were, he wouldn't be able to face the effects they had on the others, though it curiously seemed to have no effect on him. And besides, the one he had picked had already stemmed three more new blossoms to replace it. He would not be able to wipe them out without hurting his own cause.

Locking himself in his room seemed the next best thing to do, but he would have to leave eventually. He could not stay forever. Then the thought occurred to him that his was not a unique situation. Maybe others had not been affected. Maybe others were unwilling to partake in the effects these new plants had on them.

So Jetstorm decided to venture out again, swallowing his fear - and he was afraid. Of friends, of foes, of the plants. But he had his weapon. He was a warrior. And he could do this. At least, he could try.

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Eventually, Jetstorm might come across a smallish field of the flowers.

Nothing out of the ordinary, unless you count the short green alien crouched in the middle. These are new, and as much as Peridot hates literally every aspect of this planet, she decided she should investigate. Her efforts to jury-rig a ship together have come to halt due to missing a key piece and being unable to find Star, so she decided to busy her mind with other things.

One hand has formed a floating pad. The other has a flower inbetween two floating fingers, holding it close to her face. She frowns, then blows it, watching the petals fly away.

How completely pointless.

Such a field of flowers, he does stumble upon by chance, and he vents a soft sigh when he sees them. They were so beautiful to him before, and truly they still are, but not for the perceived dangers they present. It's not lost on him that he might only be seeing this as a threat due to his own past experiences, and maybe this is what Cybertron needs to help everyone come back together again and bond and work together under a common cause - moreso than they had. For all he knows, the planet itself created them for just that reason, but he's having a hard time seeing past it.

What he isn't having difficulty seeing is the humanoid figure standing in with those flowers, looking at one upon her - he guesses it's a female - hand. Something brought them all here for some purpose, but he hadn't ever seen it bring about a non-Cybertronian. She looked... almost human, but not quite.

Truth be told, Jetstorm wasn't entirely sure she was human. Either way, he would approach this with care. She didn't look like she was in any danger, but she might be affected. He didn't want to fight her, but he might need to run.

"Hello?"

Peridot whips around when she hears the voice, looking up and ready to arm her... arm cannon. Then she looks around. Then down.

Oh.

Well. She doesn't let her guard down, but she also doesn't bother arming the cannon.

"Another Wheeljack. Oh, joy." she says in a flat tone. "Try not to tromp all these. I need samples."

Maybe she can make bio-fuel out of them.

That looks dangerous. He jumps back, reaching back for his nunchucks out of reflex. Leave it to him to bring a knife to a gun fight, but he doesn't take them off their hold on his back, and he's glad for it.

She doesn't bring her weapon to bear, he'll leave his where it is. Then, he'll look around at the flowers and back to her again as he straightens. "It does no good to try and destroy them anyway. More will grow back in their place. I have tried."

He looks down again, considering. "If I may ask, what do you intend to do with them?"

"More? I could use more."

Peridot hasn't figured out the effects yet. As a being that's technically hard light, the pollen can't affect her.

"I'm just interested in using this planet's produce for my own gain. Living off the land, as it were."

This one is smaller than Wheeljack. Not as obnoxious, either. Peridot feels less pugnacious when there's no-one actively trying to stop her doing what she wants.

Edited (tensess) 2015-08-10 00:19 (UTC)

More? Who would want more of these? There's a whole patch of them right here. "They do seem to be spreading, but I think it may have slowed. I do not seem to understand why I have not been affected by their pollen, but I would like for this not to get worse than it is. Not everyone is so pleased."

Like him. Who would rather not find himself cornered one day. Or Pipes. Or Sideswipe. Or Grimlock... Though he's pretty sure Grimlock could beat the screws off anything that tried. Or maybe Grimlock would be the one trying... Oh, he just scared himself.

"...Their pollen has effects?!"

Edited (i always get those mixed up) 2015-08-10 01:49 (UTC)

She elongates her fingers, spinning them.

Yes. Peridot has just formed a finger copter. She floats out of the patch of flowers and over to where Jetstorm is standing, landing and grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Is it infectious? What do they do?!"

Just a moment ago, he was prepared for her to be hostile toward him. But then he went and let his guard down and now he's... Well, he's startled, for sure, but she's not hurting him, so he won't try to shove her away.

"I do not know the extent of its effects. I have seen many others suddenly engaging in - " Oh, this is hard to get out. " - several... physical... activities. I have not reacted in any such way myself, but it did not seem coincidence that others reacted at the same time the flowers appeared."

Give him a moment more and he'll lift a hand to try and geeeently distance the two of them. Personal space plzkthx.

"Ugh! Of course they make those moronic tin cans fight each other."

...You know, what? Close enough. She lets go when that hand comes up, taking a few steps away from Jetstorm, turning her back.

"It makes sense it didn't get me," she says, talking to herself. "But why would it get mechanical beings? Don't they have vents? This makes no sense."

She bends down, and messes with the edge of the flower field for a bit, before standing up with several of them in a floating green bubble above her hand. She turns back towards Jetstorm.

"Are you one of the Wheeljacks?"

For all his worth, Jetstorm can only stand there and stare at her in stunned silence. What in the world has he stumbled upon?

"I... do not believe I am. What is a wheeljack?"

Seriously. He knows of a bot by that name, but if we're talking nouns not names, then he's in trouble.

"That natives of this... planet. Called Wheeljacks apparently."

She looks Jetstorm over. He had the same basic features as the Wheeljack she encountered earlier. Maybe he's an offshoot species?

Hahah who is she kidding like robots have offshoot species.

Okay. Who has she been talking to again?

"Whoever told you that must be mistaken. The natives to this world are Cybertronians."

Groaning, Peridot runs her fingers down her face. She doesn't actually have a palm to face with.

"Of course. I knew he'd given me incorrect information! Ugh! What an annoying brat!"

Pot, meet kettle. She feels more inclined to believe this, seeing as Cybertronians sounds like an actual species name and not some idiot name someone just made up.

This one is... strange. But he's not really sure what to do now. Offer to help or go back to looking for something that might be useful.

He'll opt for looking around himself in his immediate vicinity for now. Nothing but flowers everywhere, but there's a pole over there that catches his attention. "I should be leaving now."

Here, have a bow. Because why not? He's nice.

Peridot just looks sidelong at Jetstorm and grunts, confused about the bow but not enough to question it or care.

At least now she knows more about what the flowers do. Good job, little nerd.

Guess who else is trying to stay away from everyone? For completely different reasons, but, well. Sentinel is not even aware of the pollen or the flowers, he is completely unaffected.

He's just trying to climb up to the second level of this half ruined house. He saw something he wanted in it, but the stairs are blocked by debris.

Seeing as his life is terrible recently, this attempt won't go well. He slips, shrieks a torrent of curse words then manages to land face first into the pavement. He then lets his legs drop down, getting them caught in a window and exvents heavily.

He'll just stay here for a while. Whatever.

He heard that. He heard that from like a ways down. And that did not sound at all like bots... er... affected by the pollen. It sounds like a genuine problem. But he'll still rush to it with all vigilance and everything right up front. Made that mistake once or three times before and it was not fun for him.

But what he sees when he gets there isn't what he worried he would see. It's worse, in fact, and he can't be sure if this bot hurt himself or knocked himself cold or what happened from a look, but he's not moving. That's the only thing certain. Still, Jetstorm can't help a little hesitation as he approaches. This might or might not be a good idea.

"Are you okay?"

Oh, good. Someone heard. Oh, good. Someone saw. Sentinel considers laying still and seeing if this tiny little Autobot would leave. That's not really showing progress, though.

Wanting to keep a scrap of dignity, he rolls over and gets up impressively quickly for someone of his size.

"Fine. I've fallen from higher."

That's probably not something he should bring up as a point of pride.

"...My armour can withstand it. I mean." Damnit. Fuck. Sentinel wants a do-over, where does he get a do-over.

He's almost glad that bot started moving because he'd honestly considered stepping closer and prodding him just to be sure he wasn't hurt. Or worse. Though him getting up so fast does startle him a little.

As does the fact that he even gets up. For a moment, he was sure it was going to be 'or worse.'

"Ah, good. I am glad you are unharmed." Is he, though? "What happened? Were you attacked?" That's always right where Jetstorm goes with these things. Someone else obviously had ill intent.

"I..."

Attacked. Yeah, that sounds less embarrassing

"There was a rabid turbofox. On my face. It made me slip. I got it, though."

Luckily, his tone is creepily completely flat and devoid of any emotion. The amount of exasperation he's feeling isn't audible. Finally, his emotional expression troubles come in handy!

He blinks. And really, that's about all he can say to that. Kinda. He's not sure whether to believe it, but he's not about to call the bot a liar. If he's willing to smash his face into the ground to such results as he was just looking at before, who knows what the bot's willing to do with a minicon he doesn't like?

"You do not like turbofoxes, I suppose."

That tone isn't helping, to be sure, but he's not feeling so welcome. Danger's over. No one got hurt. He'll just back away a step or two. "I can see you know how to take care of yourself should another find you. It was nice to speak with you."

"Not... not the rabid ones."

This is awkward, he can tell. He doesn't really want this thing to go running to Optimus and be like THE GIANT GOLD GUY WAS MEAN.

...No, that's a completely insane expectation. And yet.

Crouching down so he's not so obscenely huge, Sentinel decides to try and fix things. That... weren't broken.

"Wait." he says carefully, he doesn't raise his voice. Minibots are scared by sudden movements and loud noises, right?

He doesn't particularly want to stay, but that voice halts him and he looks uuuup - or not so far up - when that bot crouches. Now his curiosity is going to get the better of him, so he'll stay. He'll wait.

"Yes?"

Okay, he can do this. He can thank the minibot and not throw up or gag while doing it. He can do it.

He just realised he's been quiet for a few minutes and starting at the poor little guy. He is absolutely terrible at this.

"...Thank you. For checking."

Inventing gently, he manages to not puke.

Welp. This is awkward and he really doesn't know what to think, but he'd been about to back away again when the bot speaks.

"You are most welcome." Look, he's even polite enough to bow, but he'll make it short. This guy is making him a little... uncomfortable.

That seems to be the case with most people Sentinel tries to talk to. It's awkward. Probably the huge guns he has all over him. Definitely not his shitty social skills.

He nods and there's a short pause before he continues.

"There was not just a turbofox up there." There was not one at all. "There was an... unexploded artillery shell. I wanted to get it to deactivate it and use the wiring for something else. Less... dangerous."

He shifts slightly, so he's not looming so much over Jetstorm.

"Would you be able to climb up to the top? I can give you a boost." he asks, completely unironically and unaware of the issues Jetstorm may see with this.

Oh. Oh, that doesn't sound dangerous at all. Bot with huge guns looking for another round. He's asking for trouble here. He's asking for so much trouble.

"I am not certain about this. Can you be sure it is not a live round but in fact defective?"

In other words, you're not about to put that in his chest, are you?

A frown creeps across his features. He's not really angry with Jetstorm, more the situation. Sentinel can't believe he actually slipped off the damn building.

"Live or defective, the important thing is it's not exploded and I need the internal mechanisms."

He looks back up to the building, then to Jetstorm.

"It's far too big for me to use, if that's what you're worried about." Unless he throws it really hard. That might work.

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't too big to use. Then he has to rethink himself because he seems to have forgotten that they're still having to salvage for anything useful if they want to survive. That was what he'd been doing himself when he went out today, despite everything.

Ashamed of himself, Jetstorm looks up at the building, then at the ground level entrances. "Is there no way for me to get inside from here?"

Let him try that first. He really needs some handhold here.

"It had seemed stable from the inside the first time I looked."

He moves over, putting a hand on the window his leg had been caught in and peeks in.

"Not sure so much after I fell..." It honestly looks like his heavy ass displaced some of the loadbearing rubble. Double embarrassing. Even when he's trying not to, apparently all Sentinel can do is ruin things. "Perhaps you shouldn't risk it. I wouldn't be able to get in and assist if something went awry."

Drawing back, he looks up at the outside of the building.

"How good are you at climbing?"

So... fell or was battling great disappearing turbofox? He'll allow it. He's been embarrassed by far less before. Jetstorm looks over the outside of the building and first impressions aren't good at all. Not that any of this is good. At all.

"I have not had a chance to try on a surface like this. I am not sure I would be able to make it far."

Let the big baby pretend he's not a complete failure.

He crouches down further, holding a hand out. Without saying a word, because he feels what he's offering is obvious enough.

Someone needs to tell him this is not how Being Nice works.

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yep this is a thing

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