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[b]"I agree, Ulastron, if they want to fight, we will teach them what a million years of War have taught us. I grow weary of fleeing and surrender, and I...am...sick...to...rust...of this cold."[b]
"All of this cold water and cold air must be dulling my circuits. I'm afraid I'm an old warrior, not a scavenger-engineer-survivalist. I've always trusted others to handle these logistics. You have all done an excellent job of keeping us going. Keep doing what you are doing."
Warhawk is fascinated by the many organics, but knows it isn't reasonable to spend too much time in the cold. He will take a moment to land and transform, spending a few minutes in a meadow just watching. If nothing interesting turns up, he will turn around and head back to pick up his pals.
Warhawk will cruise north, maybe check out Denali, maybe stumble across some fossil fuels.
No, no. I went with the military chopper. But at first I was going to make him more of a medic and have him be one of those rescue choppers. Then the old soldier idea won out.
Works for me. Ironically, I initially conceived of Warhawk as a coast guard rescue helicopter rather than military. Would have been much less obvious in Alaska.
Warhawk is not stealthy.
Warhawk lowers the pitch of his voice modulators to their most soothing tones, "We have enough real problems to worry about. Let's not bring Unicron into this. We haven't scoped anything to indicate that level of Chaos. More of a wildness, a lack of control, but not an active will to destroy everything."
"Chatterbox, I'm not sure that is the most useful information that we can give Del-tor. The planet is wet, with much of it covered by liquid water and other parts by solid water."
"Del, we are Autobots, stranded on a primitive planet overrun with biologicals. Our energon reserves are low. Please assist our Cityspeaker, Redshift." To the others:"Now that we have our immediate needs under control, it may be time to see whether the Decepticon blight has reached this planet, and whether there are any other Autobots that have made there way here."
3)I'm enjoying it, just worried about mistepping. I'll try to not be such a worry wart.
I'm here, just a little overwhelmed by lore, system I haven't played for a while, and not feeling totally comfortable in the genre. Also being negligent as a player, for which I apologize.
I think we can safely split up into a team to fix the computers and one to seek energy. Probably best for me to be on team energy.
"This is a strange place, Chatterbox, but I don't see any immediate signs of threat. They must be need the organic spaces to recharge. Why else would they let so much of their city be infested with organic matter. I doubt that they eat mechanical beings. There don't appear to be any mechanical beings for them to eat."
I need to a little meta here and ask about expectations from the GM and other players? Are we wanting to play this as sort of a covert thing, or do just roll up and say, "People of Earth, we are Autobots..."
"I don't think we should split up for the moment. We have no idea whether the natives will be welcoming or hostile. Let's check out the larger city together. We aren't so desperate as to need to be incautious."
”Let’s assess the political situation before we bring the others into it. If they are primitives, they may not take kindly to aliens.” With a characteristic sound of transformation, Warhawk changes into his vehicle form, let’s Ulastron aboard, and flies toward the nearest city at top speed.
"I can fly, and can carry those of you who cannot."
"Anywhere that isn't here is good enough for now. I'm a fine pilot, just tell me what you need me to do..."
"I am Warhawk, and these are my friends, Skitter and Chatterbox. We fled Cybertron at the orders of the new Prime, Optimus Prime. Our ship was damaged in the escape and we ended up here. Now we have an obligation to rejoin Optimus Prime and do whatever we can to aid him in his war against the Decepticons." Warhawk moves toward the bridge or cockpit, attempting to locate their savior.
I've been having some internet problems. I'll get my alias updated as soon as I can.
The smaller bots do it with much more grace, but Warhawk clambers aboard behind them "Whoever you are, thank you for your assistance. This planet seems to be grinding its gears and flying apart. Autobots, let us see if we can offer our new host any help."
"Chatterbox, do you recall your role as a scout. In my experience, scouts, you know, look at things. I'm fairly confident the biological cannot eat you. Perhaps you would like to...scout it!" Warhawk, but he thinks it is the least of his worries at this point.
Warhawk scans the horizon, trying to take in their situation around the nattering of Chatterbox. He speaks slowly, his deep voice echoing from the walls of the ruins. "Chatterbox and Skitter, standard reconnaissance sweep. Let's see if there is anything, or anyone, here that can help us get back on track." |