Carbombya

The grassy hills and savannas in the east, bordered by ancient volcanos and sprawling lava fields, are the only part of Carbombya not made up of barren desert. Until recently, the country depended on meager livestock herding and subsistence agriculture, but upon the discovery of a huge reserve of very high-grade oil beneath the shifting desert sands, things changed radically. The struggling democracy weathered multiple coup attempts by greedy neighbors and other interested foreigners before finally succumbing to the tender mercies of a home-grown dictator. There are no refugees from war torn Ethiopia being taken in as slave labor, not here under the enlightened rule of President-for-Life Abdul Fakkaddi!

Contents:

CPT

Trypticon <T>

Carbombyan Palace

Obvious exits:

East <E> leads to Red Sea.

West <W> leads to Nile River.

Fly <Up>

Verdant exits from Trypticon and casts a glance around, perhaps a bit more nervously than he had previously. Having Autbots, including a handful of very /large/ Autobots, show up on your doorstep, tends to do that to you, especially when it's been more years than some species have lived since you last faced any in combat. Still, he has no particular duties at the moment, all his personal experiments are currently running themselves and need no supervision, and he's already completed the handful of other tasks assigned to him. <repose?

Fleet is HIDING! Fleet's being a sneaky seeker, he is! He's not far from the entrance to Trypticon, tucked away behind part of his superstructure, and watching the entrance. Why? Because he's in a silly mood, and is out to cause some harmless chaos. All he needs is a suitable victim... and here's Verdant! Fleet suddenly leaps out from his hiding place and dives for Verdant, aiming his shoulder-mounted laser and firing... a harmless, low-level beam. "Ha ha! Gotcha!" he yells, whether he really does hit or not.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Verdant makes a noise of surprise, a sharp-high pitched thing that, if it were but a couple octaves higher, might be misinterpreated as a girlish squeal. Though is systems register no serious damage, warrior instincts kick in and he spins toward the direction of it, weapon at the ready. "Fleet?" he asks, surprised. And then a look of amusement crosses his face, recognition drawing. Fleet is...playing.

Yes, Fleet is playing! He's in a terribly good mood, and thus up for a bit of silliness. "Yes, Fleet!" he answers boldly, spinning in the air and pointing once more at Verdant. "C'mon! You hope to hit me with just words or something!" And with that, another weak ka-zap!

Verdant evades your grasp attack.

If he can be said to be possessed of anything, it's good reflexes. Verdant's always been good at getting out of the way. Usually because it was getting out of the way to let the real warriors do their work, but still, he's spry for a scientist. "Well," he says, "have at you then!"

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

"Ack!" cries out Fleet as he falls backwards out of the air, *thunking* into the sand. "Oh, cruel fate!" he cries melodramatically, reaching a right hand into the air. "To have allowed me... to be brought low... by a scientist! They claim that science will be our undoing, and so this has been proven true! I go, Verdant! I fly, to join my brethren in whatever may lie... beyond!" And with this he pretends to pass out, right hand flopping limply to his side.

Verdant lets out a laugh, a generally pleasant sound, if not unlike the polite laughter one might hear at an afternoon tea. Though he can get down in the trenches when it is required of him, little can disguise his more accademic bent. "Zounds," he says, regaining some measure of control, "I have slain him! Truly, this dark forces had a hand in this day, that brother should slay brother so casually!"

Fleet remains still.

Verdant watches Fleet for a moment, puzzled. Certainly, he couldn't have hurt him that much. It was a low power bolt after all. Still... Fleet isn't moving. And he has the sinking feeling he'll be in tremendous trouble should he have killed him. Quietly, he approaches the downed pastel yellow seeker and in a completely unscientific manner, prods him with a toe. "Erm... are you all right?"

When Verdant approaches Fleet pops up and points his arms at Verdant. "Ha ha! I strike from the smelter!" With that he leaps into the air and takes off across the desert.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Verdant lets out another squak of surprise, cursing himself for a novice for making such an amaturish mistake. Had this been a real situation, he'd have just gotten himself killed. "You shall pay for that, you rapscallion!" he yells, shaking a fist in the air with mock anger. Taking into the air himself, he persues Fleet.

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

"URGH! Enough of this! I shall have vengence!" With that he curls up into a ball and tumbles a bit, the straightens once more when he's facing in the opposite direction... right towards Verdant! He kicks his thrusters back on and flies towards the other seeker, transforming as he does, but just when it seems like he might intend a ram he fires and then pulls up, flying right over the other.

Fleet transforms from robot to pyramid jet.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

More surprised than hurt, Verdant's limbs still jerk around, disrupting the rigidity of pose needed for propper flight. As such, one leg wants to send him hurling skyward, the other wanted to send him downward. Reality decides to split the difference and nearly make him crash, but his recovery is almost smooth, as he executes a transformation of his own, filling the air with low-power bursts.

Verdant compacts and folds inward to transform into an F-16 fighter jet.

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) climbs very sharply and executes the top bit of an immerman, diving back at Verdant. "Bah! Can I not escape your seeking grasp? It is as though the random factors have all turned against me! Fie on you, I say! Fie!" And with that he fires once more. *Zappity-zap!*

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

The bolt strikes Verdant squarely behind the cockpit, but he's no time for an "awk", a "squee", or even a girlish "eek." Fleet has a natural advantage over him, being even more expressly built for operating in the air, but he can compensate for the moment. "I shall persue you until you are dead!" he cries, firing again. "Your roguish villiany cannot be allowed to stand!"

Verdant succeeds in grasping Pyramid Jet (Fleet), throwing him off-balance.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) does "Awk!" as he transforms and... crashes! No, wait, it /looks/ like a crash, but an experienced flier (as all seekers are, even the BOTANISTS) can tell by watching closely that it's actually a very controlled tumble, and he takes no damage (although the sand scratches his paint job something rotten)! "Can it be allowed to crawl, hero?" demands Fleet as he pushes himself out of the sand, coughs once or twice for effect (despite, you know, not actually needing to breath or anything) and raises his arm with affected weakness to fire.

The yellow Cybertronian jet unfolds, revealing the robotic form of the seeker Fleet.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

"Knave!" Verdant exclaims, transforming as he does so, letting gravity pull him down, landing with a precise crouch. "You skills do you great credit. A shame then, you chose to waste them on such fruitless...and ultimately fatal...efforts." An arm snaps up, weapon gleaming in the sunlight as it fires.

Verdant transforms, his cockpit flipping down to form his chest, his head popping up, arms pulling out from his sides, and lower section extending and splitting into his legs and feet, while his wings move slightly to allow slightly greater freedom of movement.

You evade Verdant's grasp attack.

Fleet rolls to the side and leaps back into the air, avoiding the attack and letting lose a great peel of laughter, his bearing extraordinarily cocky for one who's only managed to avoid getting hit once. He hovers in the air and lines himself up so that his right shoulder is towards Verdant, his head turned also, arm outstretched. "Dark and sinister mech, have at thee!" And with that he fires.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Less nimble this time, Verdant rolls with the blow (a somewhat difficult task, given the positon of his wings), but manages to bring himself to a kneeling position. "Too clever, too clever by half," he says. "And you would claim me as the sisnister one? Surely, you jest!" He launches himself skyward, seeming more like a grand leap than a take-off, taking him higher than Fleet before he opens fire upon him.

You evade Verdant's grasp attack.

Fleet jumps higher into the sky himself even as Verdant fires, allowing the shot to sail beneath him. "Jest? Always, but not about this, though I do not deny my cleverness," he cries up cockily, twirling and then falling backwards into a flip, showing off for the simple joy of doing so before he once more darts in Verdant's direction. "Take this, foul one!"

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

"Alas!" Verdant cries out, seeming to ride with gravity before spreading out his arms to pull himself up, toes almost knicking the sand below. A particularly unusual flower catches his attention momentarily, but he quickly diverts his attention to the task at hand. Rotating along his horizontal axis, he fires upon Fleet.

You evade Verdant's grasp attack.

It seems the random factors have finally chosen to favor Fleet... either that, or he finally got his evasion protocols on-line! "More like, 'at last!'" mocks the pastel seeker. Cheesy? Sure, but that's the way all the dialog has been thus far. And with that he dives towards Verdant, intent on tackling him to the sand!

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Verdant "Ooomphs!" with the tackle, going limp and letting himself fall flat on his back. No time for snapping dialogue now, he thinks, time for action! Time to wipe the idiot grin off the pastel yellow pyramid's face! Using his oft-wingmate's momentum against him, he kicks his legs, hoping to dislodge his foe.

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Fleet is flipped off and into the air, landing on his feet, although he's not hit nearly hard enough to lose the idiotic grin! "Ah-hah! So finally you present a challenge!" Actually, Verdant has before now, but melodramatic over-acting and boasting is the name of the game. Fleet's practicing for an advancement! Yay! "Perhaps you may yet prove yourself to be a worthy opponent!" With that he snaps his arm towards botanist and once more, feet this time remaining planted in the sand!

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Verdant takes the shot in his right wing, having thrown the majority of his bulk out of the way, but not accounting for exactly how far out to the side they stick. Modified to be an Earth-jet, his slightly different proportions are still somewhat strange to him, even after all this time. "Of course I present a challenge!" he exclaims. "To give anything less would be folly. Folly such as you have committed in invoking my wrath." His right arm snaps up, seeingly ready to fire, but at the last second, his left arm snaps up instead, firing a bolt.

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Fleet is hit! He stumbles back dramatically. "NO! I am hit!" His legs tremble, but he remains upright as he points at Verdant. "Truely, I have erred in my judgement of you! You have proven yourself too much!" He touches the back of his hand to his forehead in a 'oh-my' gesture. "For shame, to have been defeated so! But perhaps, from the ashes of defeat, I can snatch..." and here he moves suddenly, leaping into the air. "VICTORY!" The yellow seeker fires repeatedly at the other.

Fleet succeeds in grasping Verdant, throwing him off-balance.

Verdant staggers under the series of bursts, each time shooting a little bit louder and a little bit more dramatically. "You strike a sharp blow," he says, clutching one hand to his chest as though he were protecting it. "If only you wit were anywhere near as sharp." A grin, a cast off into the air, and he spins filling the air with unaimed rounds of pseudo-destructive fury.

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

At least some of those rounds of false-anger pepper Fleet's wings, resulting in a girlish squeek. "I am hit! I am defeated! And now, I FLEE!" With that he takes off, zipping away from the other seeker. "Decepticons, retreat!" he calls out as he goes, resulting in some VERY strange looks from the assorted watch-standing gumbies in the area (at least, from those who hadn't already completely dismissed Verdant and Fleet as nutso to begin with).

In what he thinks is a significantly good Autobot impression, Verdant crosses his arms across his chest and looks serious. "Rest assured, villian, as long as I live and breathe, your kind shall never no the sweet succor of victory. Always shall I stand ready to defeat you."

Fleet spins around and gives Verdant a VERY annoyed look, arms at his side. "All right, you! What happened to pursuing me to the ends of the Earth, or what have you? What kind of lazy hero are you supposed to be?" Then he grins and comes in for a landing. "Sorry about that. I had a little free time, and although I /really/ should be spending it in training... well, everyone needs a break!"

Verdant laughs, perhaps a little less stuffily than before. "No need to appologize, Fleet. I...needed that. My circuits, I admit, have been a bit surged since our encounter with the Autobots." At least he was no longer having visions of being eaten by the giant dinobird of an Autobot. "And as various people have told me, I do need to lighten up every now and then."

"Indeed!" replies Fleet. "Seeker's are creatures of the sky! Let yourself get too heavy, and you fall!" He grins, obviously still feeling a touch of his earlier melodrama. He looks down at his feet as though they were the most interesting thing on the planet. "A release now and again is good. Since we've taken this country, we've been on the defensive... this is not the role we are used to playing, and I think it's begining to wear on a lot of folks." He looks around. "I think I'll probably continue to pester others in a similar manner. At least until one decides to take me down a peg for it."

"Let me know how that turns out," Verdant replies, an amused smile playing across his silver face. Truth be told, it was the most fun he'd had in ages. "But yes, I find this situation... most unnatural. Too often, we achive victories, only to have them dashed by the Autobots."

"Oh, that," answers the yellow seeker, left hand tossed dismissively. "Well, of course, you can practically calibrate your chronometer by /that/! But what I was talking about was /us/ being on the defensive all the time. Playing by the rules." He shakes his head, a not-entirely-pleasant smile coming to his face. "I'm considered... fairly polite for a Decepticon. I've had others, including some outside the faction, mistake that politeness to mean that I'm nice. I'm not." His expression suddenly drops into something more serious, the smile staying but taking a... grimmer tone. "The only rules our kind are meant to play by are the ones we make for ourselves."

If Verdant's scared, he doesn't let on. Which is because he isn't. Certainly, an outside observer might mistake him for meek, even mild, but deep within him beats the fury of a Decepticon warrior. He has his quirks, to be certain, in his valuing of plant-life, but he's as contemptous of other sentient beings, defiers of natural selection and survival of the fittest, as anyone. Perhaps even more so. "Survival of the fittest," he said. "To live and die by strength of arms and wit, to fail and fall before the stronger, to let the weak die, that is supposed to be the way of the universe. Too many out there would seek to change this."

Catechism emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Catechism has arrived.

Fleet throws back his head and laughs very long. He labels himself a Survivalist, after all. "Yes yes, of course! Although I have always challenged that anyone who does survive proves, by this, that they are fit! Whether they do so by force, by wits, or by speed!"

Arachnae has connected.

Catechism is coming off a recharge cycle. Ah, after a good rest, she always feels so refreshed! Catechism actually looks like she's skipping. This looks a bit funny on her, but she's a bit of an odd creature. Catechism only looks normal compared to Mr. "Sweeps like me," Fleet and Dr. "I like plants," Verdant.

Fleet IS normal, dammit! Well, okay, Sweeps /do/ like him, but that's not his fault! He just happens to be oddly likable! He's also conversing with Verdant and occasionally taking the time to survey his surroundings, keeping an eye out for new potential vi- playmates. Hey, there's the Conehead! He leans over to Verdant and mutters something. He mutters to Verdant, "All... Verdant.... we... over... her,... her..."

Verdant senses "Fleet IS normal, dammit! Well, okay, Sweeps /do/ like him, but that's not his fault! He just happens to be oddly likable! He's also conversing with Verdant and occasionally taking the time to survey his surroundings, keeping an eye out for new potential vi- playmates. Hey, there's the Conehead! He leans over to Verdant and mutters something. "All right, Verdant. I say we wander over to her, acting like everything's normal, and then blast her when she least expects it!""

Verdant offers Fleet a simple cant of his head to one side and wink to signify his agreement, a slightly devilish grin--looking utterly out of place on his usualaly serious features--on his face. And, of course, Verdant is anything /but/ normal, and he'd be the first to admit it.

Arachnae slips out of trypticon, but instead of traipsing to the open sands, she alights atop one of the spires that adorn the city, looking all the world like a neo classical fallen angel of sorts. Wings cant outwards, half spanning to lend further illusion that she's simply part of the surroundings. Save for the soft emerald glow of optics that narrow and seek out movement near the entrypoint to this, the base of operations.

Catechism really should pay more attention to her fellow Decepticons during social situations. Out of battle, she's rather oblivious at times. Well, Catechism's even oblivious in battle, but that's a more obvious flaw. She tilts her head, birdlike, and asks, "Why's he smiling like that?" Hey, maybe they have good news! Catechism likes good news.

Earthscorch emerges from the city that is Trypticon.

Earthscorch has arrived.

Fleet is smiling! He looks really, really happy. Actually, it's almost creepy how much he's smiling. He virtually glides in Catechism's direction, barely bothering to keep his feet on the ground, arms at his side. He continues smiling at Catechism. "Why, Catechism, my dear Conehead! Lovely day we're having!" He looks to Verdant. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Of, absolutely, Fleet," Verdant says. The smile on the botanist's face seems slightly out of place, as does the more jovial tone, and yet he also seems quite convinced of what he's saying. "A fine day indeed. A fine time for many a thing."

Earthscorch wanders out of Trypticon, taking in his new surroundings. He looks like he could use a tune-up. He stops to watch the goings-on from a distance, for now.

Arachnae flexes her wings slowly, still looking for movement - Ahhh... there is some. Optics narrow behind her visor, a distinct predatory smirk creasing her face as she focuses downwards, watching the slowly gathering knot of seekers with curiousity and some interest. Then, more movement and she glances citywards, studying.. What.. ahhh... Smile crooks to the side, wings span out like the shroud of night's fall, cupping the air as she drops towards Earthscorch. Intention: startlement.

It's fairly hard to creep out Catechism, largely because she looks on the bright side. Make that the "Aiee, I just went blind!" side. Vaguely, all the smiling and cheer strikes her a bit odd; isn't that more her deal? But she doesn't really pay it any mind. Instead, she grins back, glances around, and agrees, "Yeah, it's a nice day! No sandstorms forecasted, another region of this mud ball to call our own, the Autobots stopped by silly little words..." Catechism could go on for quiet a while, and probably will, unless stopped.

Fleet lets Catechism go on for a /little/ while. Then he glances at Verdant and his smile turns suddenly to smirk. "NOW!" he shouts, raising his arms suddenly and peppering Catechism with blasts! But wait, what is this? They're so low power they do no damage at all. "Ha!" he shouts out happily.

Catechism evades your grasp attack.

Earthscorch is intent on watching the apparent training excercise and hasn't even noticed Arachnae yet. He listens to Catechism's words and frowns, saying, "Silly little words? Is this what we've sunk to?" quietly to himself. Suddenly he catches a peripheral sight of Arachnae. He jumps a little, startled (as per the plan), then recovers his cool and addresses her. "Ah, Arachnae. I didn't see you..."

Perhaps quicker than one might generally expect the botanist to move, Verdant brings his own weapons up, a delightful look of glee set upon his features. It's one thing to be the victim, it's another to be the player. Incredibly non-lethal firepower errupts from his guns!

Verdant misses Catechism with his grasp attack.

Arachnae lands neatly, wings folding behind her as she grins warmly at Earthscorch. "That's alright." Her attention snaps over at the sound, if not the damage of weaponsfire being exchanged. A soft hiss... and she shakes her head, "Silly little words and lightshows evidently. I wonder what's gotten into those two."

Earthscorch crosses his arms and nods at Arachnae's words. "They seem like silly frivilous sorts. But I suppose so long as they're training there's no point in complaining. Is the transition to the new area going smoothly?"

Catechism is startled. Apparently, it's a nice day to get shot! But she automatically steps back and up, into the air, and half-turns. There's no thought, not that she thinks all that much otherwise unless she's got a real reason to. Her nigh-instinctive reaction is actually enough to get her out of the low-power shots. Unfortunately, this also means that she doesn't know those shots wouldn't have hurt. So, still not thinking too much, Catechism tries to tackle, as she doesn't want to fire any shots herself and get busted for infighting, Fleet - from her limited experience, despite the rot ray, Verdant is less of a threat - to the sand, growling, "What's the big idea, huh?"

Catechism succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Fleet is tackled to the ground, *whomphing* as he hits the sand. "Calm down! Calm down, Catechism! Those were too low-powered to do damage! See?" And with that he frees an arm and fires... at Verdant, who's standing near him, after all!

Verdant evades your grasp attack.

Of course, proving that would require that Fleet actually hit him. While it would have been easy to allow himself to be hit, Verdant finds it funnier if he does not. "You," he says, waggling an accusatory finger at Fleet, "tried to /shoot/ me. Bad Fleet, bad." With that, he brought his own weapon up. "Don't worry, Cate... I'll save you from this beast!"

You evade Verdant's grasp attack.

Arachnae rests a hand on her hip, ticking talons softly, "For the most part. We're under treaty arrangements for this area so.. We're having to.. restrain some of our more natural urges." Optics narrow and dim, wings flick behind her, "However, this is a situation where we have actually seemed to look more for the long run than a short time achievement." Optics flicker as she watches Catechisms reaction to the suden peppering of light show stype weaponsfire. "Hmmm.. Methinks that one wasn't in on whatever joke hose two were." Sideways look at Earthscorch, "Think I should give'm a little scare of my own?"

Catechism rolls off Fleet, wings gouging into the sand, and springs into a crouch. She looks from Fleet to Verdant, face twitching with suspicion and confusion. Catechism shakes a fist with frustration and exclaims, "So you've gone stalling from all the sun, is that?'

Earthscorch smirks, keeping his optics on the others. "I think perhaps another surprise might be exactly what's needed here..."

Arachnae hmms, thinking her way through her mental list of tricksie things, "Well, for some odd reason I still have the tension cables from my old rotary systems." Pause as she checks something, "Ahh, and they're set up to launch as entanglement devices. A little added electricity.." OPtics glint, "Think that'd give them a little startle? Me sprouting cables like some demonic entity?"

Earthscorch fails to supress a chuckle. "I think I'd like to see for myself just how they would react to such a thing..." His smirk widens.

Fleet remains on the ground and emits a soft, electronic sound that sounds somewhat akin to a sigh, his head tilting upwards for just a second as he shakes his head. "No, Catechism, we haven't. In fact, I'd dare say running around with our weapons on low power for a bit while we're off-duty is QUITE a bit saner than some of the things we do for fun... like, say, storm tag?"

"Oh, most certainly," Verdant agrees amiably. He knows well the dangers of storm tag and, in fact, had a serious talking to about it from Scrapper on "stupid seeker things." He cants his head to one side. "We are most certainly sane," he says. "Well, about as sane as we can be."

"I'm perfectly sane!" snaps the pastel yellow seeker as he begins to pull himself up. "It's the rest of the Empire that's miss-clocked!"

Arachnae laughs softly to herself, optics slitting as mischiviousness crosses her features. Wings shift behind her, half spanning as small ridges of armoring along forearms, flank and shoulders pivot to reveal small recesses. A grin flashed to Earthscorch and she sidesteps, begining her quiet stalk of the trio of seekers.

"You, my dear Fleet," Verdant says, chuckling and using what might best be called a "talking to small children" tone of voice, "are /far/ from sane. Not that I, I suppose, have much room to talk. If /anyone/ here is sane, it's Catechism here. Certainly, her sunny dispoisition suggests greater sanity than either of us possesses."

Catechism straightens up and shakes the sand off herself. She waves dismissively and says, "Storm tag serves to actually test our skills. Low powered shots don't do much of anything, except maybe test our reflexes. Still..." Catechism looks pensive for a moment. Walls. Buckets. Kettle. Pot. Black. "Oh, have fun, you two. I've got patrol." With that, she transforms and heads off.

Catechism transforms into her alternate mode: a F-35, Marine Corps variant. Her feet flip up against her shins, her nosecone rotates through her body and out in front where it belongs, her arms tuck into her torso, and her wings rotate into position.

Catechism has disconnected.

Verdant only says /that/ because he's never watched Catechism lose all touch with reality in the training room! "Far from sane?" protests the coward. "Nonsense! I'm as grounded in the real world as a seeker ever has been!" He crosses his arms and, for a moment, takes a defiant pose before he stops to think. "Well, at least I /was/ before all these weird things started happening to me on an almost daily basis." As Catechism leaves he inclines his head after her as a quick good-bye.

"Of course you are," Verdant says. "But what better way to take Catechsim off guard? Surely, she knows her optimism is..." He stopped and tried to search for the right word. "Unique amongst us. By trying such a tactic, I had hoped to give you an opening."

Fleet gives Verdant a long, slow look. "You hoped to take her off-guard by calling her sane?" He shrugs. "Ah, well. She's on duty, anyway, and I wouldn't have wanted to distract her from that."

"No," Verdant replies. "More's the pity." It would have been fun, a three-way-free-for-all, but duty does come first. Of course, that doesn't mean he can't still have a little more fun with Fleet...

Verdant succeeds in grasping Fleet, throwing him off-balance.

Arachnae continues her stalking, pausing to estimate a distance before she springs up into the air. A glide of several meters before she lands with a deliberate *THUNK* wings spanned out, frame in half crouch, limmed with flickering faeriefire. From beheath those opened panels comes a soft hiss of sound that rises to a whine as she straightens herself. The whine twists to the pop-hiss of pressure being released and the semi sweep lets loose a series of high tension cables, usually kept in reserve for climbing, or tying up things or in another life, to support helicoptor rotors. These are directed at the yellow seeker like one would cast a net at birds, each strand momentarily lit with the briefest hint of excited electrons. "Weird things?" voice a purring lilt, "What kind of weird things, my dear, Fleet?" Smile, "By the way, Boo."

You evade Arachnae's grasp attack.

"GHA!" exclaims the dancer as Verdant catches him off-guard. However, it's in leaping back to attempt (and fail) to avoid his blasts that he's able to get out of the way of Arachnae's weird tentacle attack. "GHA!!" he exclaims again as she startles him. Once he calms down (perhaps a bit sooner than once he would have from familiarity, or perhaps it's because one who lives constantly with fear deals well with it) he manages to process what Arachnae asked. "Well, like you!" he answers, but his tone is cheerful and playful, not insulting.

Jumping Jacko-Trees! What in the name of creation is... A Decepticon. It has to be. And judging by the voice... Arachnae. It takes a minute, but Verdant recovers his composure. He has got to stop being so jumpy; it's not good for his image or his circuits. "That was... most surprising," he says.

Arachnae blinks as the cables fall limply to the ground once disconnected from their owner. Then.. the pseudo sweep femme.. giggles softly. "You should have seen your face." Grin.

Earthscorch strides forward slowly, lowering his arms to his side. "Well played, Arachnae. I believe you 'got them.'"

Had Fleet known about a certain session between Scrapper and an Autobot car not /too/ long ago, he might be worried when a MSE member mentions being able to see his own face, but he remains blissfully ignorant of that event. "That'd be rather difficult without a mirror, Arachnae," he responds, and then offers Earthscorch a smirk on a charming little platter. "And as for 'getting me...' anyone who's known me for any length of time might realize that... startling me isn't exactly a difficult endeavor."

"However enjoyable an experience it may be?" Verdant asks with a chuckle, his own nervousness subdued successfully. He does not usually delight in the misfortune of others, but of course, even one usually described as "stuffy" can appreciate a good joke.

Arachnae chuckles and starts the laborious process of spooling the cable back into the launch recesses. "Still, a rather interesting expression." Wings tucking in neatly behind her, rustling. "But you recovered nicely." Sideways look at Verdant. "And you as well." A singular nod to Earthscorch, "I think that I did. Would have been far more interesting if it had made contact. May well have to rework the tension in the coils at a later time."

Earthscorch watches the cables retract with interest. "Strange devices. Those are for surgical purposes, are they not?"

Arachnae ahhs softly, "No, these are just a remnant of a past life." She tucks the ends into the open panels before becinging to coil and lock them back into place.

"Well, I'm sure the expression was interesting," explains Fleet. "And, well, yes, I recovered fairly quickly... recent events are, I think, wearing the edge off my nervousness." After all, when you're being chatted with by Sweeps on a semi-regular basis, and even being asked to be more... well, at ease with them, you begin to learn to brush off the weird before too long. He frowns as his internal chronometer reminds him of something. "However, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short. I've got watch overseeing some slaves a ways from here, and I'd better go report for that." With that he takes to the air himself.

Earthscorch nods silently to Fleet as he departs.

"And while not assigned to anything, I did spot some interesting plants during a fly-over early I would like to check out," Verdant says. Boss or not... Arachnae unnerves him seriously, and the desire to spend as little time in her presence as possible is always strong. He took, takes to the air, heading in a different direction than Fleet.

Verdant vanishes out of reality.

Verdant has left.