IC Time on Earth: Tue Sep 10 15:32:42 2024

NCC Coastline

It is a tribute to the construction of the city that they were successfully able to integrate a Cybertronian landscape into something as un-Cybertronian as a coastline. Regardless, as the city is in battle mode, one is not likely to be admiring the construction effort. Huge laser emplacements point out to sea, capable of sinking a battleship. Tiny point-defense laser turrets are placed along the sky-roads that lead deeper into the city, and missile turrets line the various spires of the city to protect against an aerial assault. As this is the gateway to the rest of New Crystal City, clearly it was designed to be a strong fortification. The weaponry is mostly for long-range engagements to annihilate foes before they even reach the island, but there are short ranged guns as well. Overall, this is a death trap to invaders. A huge strike force would be required to secure it.

Contents:

Hook

Decepticon Advanced Troops 4758

Imperial Decepticon Mini-Sub <Mantis>

Imperial Vessel <Despoiler>

Obvious exits:

North <N> leads to NCC Central Hub.

East <E> leads to NCC Residential Plaza.

West <W> leads to NCC Spaceport.

Fly <Up> Ocean <O>

Hook sits atop one of the irregular metallic struts that dot the coastline, remenants of the rocks that once marked the coastline, now transformed into glistening metal by the cyberforming process. He appears to be humming something - and for once it's not "Modern major general".

Long Haul putters in at a reluctant pace. He'd have a hard time going much slower without throwing it into reverse. In his truck bed are several large canisters of sealant intended for his current task. Grunt work - worse, gumby work! It only goes to show, despite being a Constructicon, despite being part of /Devastator/, just how low he ranks most of the time. Obviously, it's because he's a supply runner, and not a warrior. Things would be different, if only he could be given the chance to prove /himself/ in battle, rather than as part of Big Green.

Hook glances over at Long Haul, nodding as he sees that his technically-inferior brother is busying himself with grunt work, and not trying to overtax his processor with something complicated.. like tightening a nut. On closer inspection, Hook appears to be humming "Ode to joy". Not that probably means anything to Long Haul. "You know, I think that song is the pinacle of human culture" he remarks. "Don't you, Long Haul?"

Hook is absolutely right. It means absolutely /nothing/ to Long Haul. "What?" snaps the dump truck crabbily as it transforms, the load in his truck bed /not/ toppling all over the place thanks to the magic of bad animation. It takes him a moment to even realize what's been asked. He takes a moment to turn his ruby optic-band in Hook's direction - Hook, who is not working, but sitting around humming - and successfully contains a scowl, thanks, mainly, to his lack of face. Finally he grunts. "Didn't know they had a pinnacle."

"It's more of a blip" Hook admits, sliding off his perch and sauntering over to his brother. "Sealant, eh? Good good. Mind that you apply it correctly." Yes, Hook appears satisfied to stand around and watch Long Haul work, criticizing when necessary.

'Mind that you apply it correctly.' Thanks, Hook! Because Long Haul would have never expected that he's supposed to apply sealant correctly if you hadn't said that! He turns his non-face turns slightly in Hook's direction, and he would glare, if he could. Instead, any emotion is kept inside, he kneels down to open one of the canisters, barely vocalized grumbling just barely enough to register on the audios.

Hook ignores Long-Haul's grumbling, or else just doesn't hear it. Why, he should be honored that Hook is overseeing his work! That means it'll be 200 percent more accurate! And take 4 times as long. "Those canisters can be tricky" Hook points out. "Try not to spill any." He looks around the beach, then back at Long Haul. "So, ready for Galvatron's Master Plan?"

'Try not to spill any'? The /object/ is to get the stuff onto the ground! It doesn't work otherwise! Long Haul looks up and prepares to 'accidentally' tip over one of the canisters, just to annoy the perfectionist, when the subject is changed. Ah, yes, the Master Plan! At last, he's been granted another chance to prove himself! Cruel fate has dangled another carrot before him... and fool that he is, Long Haul’s going to go for it. Still, his voice conveys none of his inner excitement, and instead he affects a slightly offended tone. "Of course. We've had plenty of time to get ready for this," he mutters, dipping one of the applicators into the canister as he does.

Hook nods. "Of course, of course. But time does not necessarily equal readiness" Hook chides, even waggling his finger in an intensely irritating fashion. "I myself have checked and triple-checked my systems, to ensure there are no minor glitches or unforseen errors. And have been on a purified energon diet, to cleanse the system. I shall be at top efficiency!" He smiles smugly.

"Oh, good," Long Haul sneers. Of course, he doesn't actually sneer, as he has no mouth, but the sneer is there in his voice, calling for attention. "I had noticed you'd been a little off form lately. Glad to hear that's been corrected."

Hook hmphs, at the very THOUGHT that he would be 'off form'. "Be sure to spread the sealant evenly" he replies. "We don't want clumps in places and nothing in others, do we? As for being "off form".. really Long Haul, you should know that operating at peak performance puts strain on a mech's system. Of course.. I'm /always/ at peak mental performance , while showing no signs of burn out. But that's due to my enhanced cerebral processor. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Long Haul studies Hook's foot for a moment, trying to decide if it would seem too much of a stretch for him to accidentally knock the canister onto it. The thought of Hook getting his foot stuck to the ground was terribly, terribly appealing, but they weren't really that close to- well, close enough, and Hook was already certain he was a bumbling incompetent, anyway. "Oh, forgive m- opps!" Supply Department casualty! Supply Department casualty! Canister down, contents splashed towards brother's foot!

Hook acks! "You clumsy oaf!" he scolds, his foot now covered in sealant. "Really.. maybe we should just make Devestator a false arm.. a hook maybe!" He struggles, trying to pull his foot out of the sticky substance. "..That's the bent piece of metal, not me. In case you were confused."

"Oh, thank you for the clarification! I never would have figured it out on my own..." Although Long Haul wasn't entirely certain what Hook was talking about in this instance, since he was the butt. Not of this particular joke, however. For once Hauler blessed his facelessness, because he was certain that otherwise he would not be able to contain a malicious grin.

Maybe Hook's crazy purified diet is getting to him. Or maybe he didn't want to entertain the prospect of Devastator with a huge prosthetic ass. "No, I didn't think so" Hook replies. "Now get some solvent. Being stuck down is irritating."

"But Hook!" protests Long Haul, "How can I be sure I'm grabbin' the right substance without your supervision? All those labels and words and such... it's awfully confusing!"

Hook actually considers that seriously. "Here, I'll write you a note." The supercillious engineer takes a datapad from subspace and VERY CAREFULLY writes on it in BIG CLEAR CAPITAL LETTERS; "Splitshift Brand Solvent". "Oh, and a picture too" Hook adds, attaching an image of said product. "Theeeere we go.." Hook reaches out, attempting to magnetically "pin" the datapad to Long Haul's chestplate. "You run along and get that."

Long Haul's expressionless non-face looks down as the datapad is clipped to his chestplate, then up at Hook, then down at his chestplate. He wonders if he could claim he couldn't read it because it was inverted and at a bad angle - after all, Long Haul didn't exactly have much of a neck, it's not like his head was particularly mobile. Instead he trudges off, disappearing from view.

... Five minutes pass ...

Hook makes a satisfied noise. Because of COURSE Long Haul is going to go STRAIGHT to storage, find the solvent and come right back, right? Right?

... Ten minutes pass ...

... Twenty minutes pass ...

Hook taps his foot impatiently. That is to say, the foot that ISN'T stuck to the ground. Aaaaaany minute now.

... Half an hour. Maybe he got lost?

"Where IS that buffoon?" Hook grumbles. "...Wait.. he CAN read, can't he? I'm sure he can.. maybe."

... Forty-Five minutes. No doubt Long Haul is double-checking every loop and curve of each letter and triple-checking the picture. Because, you know, you've gotta be sure. Nothing short of perfection for /his/ brother, after all!

Hook goes back to humming again. Maybe a prosthetic ass for Devestator wouldn't be /too/ bad. Or maybe they could hold auditions? 'Who wants to be a Constructicon!' It has a nice ring to it...

FINALLY, an hour later, Long Haul returns in dump truck mode, rumbling into view, if possible, even more slowly than he had when he approached the scene last time. After all, wouldn't want to knock the canister over in his truck bed or anything like that, would he? He pulls up next to Hook. "You're gonna have to lift that out of there. Wouldn't want to dump the stuff everywhere while transforming, you know." Never mind that he /could/ just employ that same animation magic as before.

Hook siiiiighs. "Must I do EVERYTHING myself?" Hook grumbles, swiveling the lifting arm on his shoulder to lift the canister out. "And it took you long enough. My instructions were quite clear. Next time I shall attach a bigger picture."

Long Haul transforms as he protests, "Well, I had to make sure I had the right stuff, didn't I? Wouldn't want to accidently strip the paint off your foot or something!" Of course, he knew damn well why he took so long, but he wasn't going to admit it.

Hook pours the solvent on his foot, pulling it free with a sticky sound. Waggling his foot with some releif, he glares at Long Haul. "Are your optics defective? It's CLEARLY LABLED." He tsks. "I should do a full check on them before the mission tomorrow, as well as the optical processor in your core, since they might be functioning fine, but you're probably just not USING them."

"Oh, wonderful idea, Hook! And considering how long the check'll take if /you're/ working on it, we'd probably better get started now," is exactly what Long Haul does not say. If he did, Hook probably would haul off the hauler for a check right then. Instead he says, almost sweetly, "Well, at the moment I'm kind of busy. You, erm, might want to step back this time. Wouldn't want another accident to happen..."

Hook waves his hand with some degree of irritation. "I'll leave you to it" he replies, no doubt to Long Haul's joy. "Though I shall, of course, be back later to inspect your work." Giving one last critical look at the patch of shoreline, he strides off towards New Crystal City, each second step making a sticky squelching sound.