<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Any operatives available as escourt? I need to.. Pick a few things up."

<Decepticon> Fleet replies after a noticable pause, "I'm nearby, Commander."

<Decepticon> Arachnae says, "Just a simple dart and grab, Fleet. I thank you for your offer of assistence."

Arachnae pads out of medical, wings canted behind her at a jaunty angle. She's smiling faintly, looking over something on a datapad.

Fleet descends rather quickly in tetrajet form, transforming as he nears the ground to actually land. He touches down gently, then spins, trying to spot Arachnae. After doing so he walks over, steps still light to the ground, almost as though he's still keeping his antigravs on, in low power.

Arachnae headtilts, tracking sound before she catches the movement of the incoming craft. Her smile crooks slightly, optics bright. "Ahh, greetings." She waves a hand about, "Thank you again. This is just a simple grab and go, as it were. I'm finding that I'm short several weights of silicate fiber. And haven't the inclination to wait for someone else to add to inventory. Feel up to hauling some sand with me?"

Fleet's eyes flicker a moment, and then he nods. After all, it certainly sounded much safer than droid testing! "Not a problem, Arachnae. I'm... on break from the patrols, more or less, anyway." He smiles slightly, the expression more a part of his mouth than the rest of his face, but genuine enough to be found there, as well. "Never hurts to stay in the good graces of someone who might be looking at me from the inside, so to speak."

Arachnae laughs softly.. wings spanning out behind her as she readies to leap upwards, "Might? Oh... I will be looking at you from the inside. Need to refresh my basic design studies for a project I'm working on. Granted, all I need is a good hardscan of you, nothing invasive whatsoever." She tucks her datapad away, "Shall we? Current studies indicate that there is a great abundence of the grade of silicate that I require nestled in Florida in the United States. Siesta Keys if my contacts are correct."

At "Oh... I will..." Flee appears a bit nervous (which is to say, his usual level of nervousness notches up slightly), but as she finishes her statement he calms back down to his usual, ambient level of ground-based nervousness. "Well... let me know when you need me to assist with that. But in the meanwhile..." he jumps off the ground, although there's very little... actual jumping motion involved. More like a tap of his foot, and suddenly his a couple of yards above the ground rather than on it. "If you could, perhaps, lead the way? I'm becoming more familiar with this planet, but I still can't really place names with locations most of the time."

Arachnae chuckles softly, giving the Seeker a look before she leaps upwards, wings snapping out once, twice then folding about her as she transforms. "Follow along. This shouldn't be that long of a trip."

Fleet, rather than answering verbally, gives a brief radio-signal acknowledgement before transforming himself.

Fleet transforms from robot to pyramid jet.

Voidcraft (Arachnae) soars upward into the sky.

Voidcraft (Arachnae) has left.

** Travel Spam **

Florida

Florida is much more than just beaches and palm trees. Historical sites, lush forests, collections of fine art, professional sports and attractions ranging from large theme parks to small zoos and museums are just the beginning in this ethnically diverse state. Nevertheless, the ocean is never more than 50 miles away, either the jewel-green waters and sugar-white beaches of the Gulf of Mexico to the east, or the golden beaches and rolling waves of the blue Atlantic to the west. Unfortunately, water, water everywhere also makes Florida the state most subject to being hit by hurricanes. Tourism is the leading industry, followed by agriculture (such as oranges and other citrus fruits) and the manufacturing of electrical, electronic, and transportation equipment.

Contents:

Voidcraft (Arachnae)

Obvious exits:

Northwest <NW> leads to Southeastern States.

East <E> leads to Western Central Atlantic.

West <W> leads to Gulf of Mexico.

Fly <Up> Orlando <OR>

Voidcraft (Arachnae) descends from the skies above, engines a low rumble against the skies. She has her sights, so to speak, set on an idyllic portion of Florida's gulf coast, where the sand is sparkling white and relativly free of detrius. She only needs a few hundred pounds or so... Maybe less. Nothing they'll miss. Really.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) cuts the skies swiftly behind the voidcraft. He is, by now, fairly well adapted to the atmosphere, although he's still not wholly comfortable with its feel. The output of his engines are set high enough to keep an easy pace behind the other, and no higher.

Porsche 935 Turbo arrives from the Southeastern State region.

Porsche 935 Turbo has arrived.

Voidcraft (Arachnae) isn't in a giant rush, but she also has no interest in eliciting the alarms of anyone until she's settled down. Wingovering, she descents rapidly, transforming as son as the treeline comes to meet her to land atop a dune, eyeing the beach proper.. despite the shock and surprise of any locals. "Hmmm."

Despite whatever situation that might exist on Cybertron, Jazz still gets days off now and again. And since he's got the day off--- why not go somewhere. Like. Earth. Which he hasn't been on for far too long. And as for a vacation... Why Florida? Well. Why not? Flat roads. Warm sun. What more could a 'Bot ask for.

Pyramid Jet (Fleet) seems to come in for a landing far faster than he should be, until, very near Arachnae, his flaps open and he begins twisting violently in the air, transforming as he does so. In robot mode he seems to tumble, but the way he sets his feet as he lands proves that the entire motion was completely under his control. The wind stirred up by the sudden stop-and-twist disturbs the sand beneath him, and yet, by comparison, his touchdown seems to bother very little of it.

Fleet transforms from pyramid jet to robot.

Arachnae crouches down and runs talontips through the rise of a dune, optics narrowing throughtfully. "Hmm. Above the tide mark.. Lighter if it isn't wet." her head tilts at the sound of someone.. (human) pitching a fit over the robots on the dunes ... *natternatter - Protected by law, shouldn't be on them.* A lone brow raises up behind her visor, she offers a faint smile, peering at her erstwhile compatriot before she stands, ignoring the human and strides along the duneline. "Over here, Fleet."

Foxfire arrives from the Southeastern State region.

Foxfire has arrived.

F-1 Ligier JS-II arrives from the Southeastern State region.

F-1 Ligier JS-II has arrived.

Porsche 935 Turbo continues his ride. He's on vacation, after all. And the humans haven't decided to call on his badarse self or anything. He's just going to continue to enjoy the roads. The ocean breeze. The delightful calls of the tourists.

F-1 Ligier JS-II heads towards the city of Orlando.

F-1 Ligier JS-II has left.

Fleet follows Arachnae. He looks down at the sand... strange stuff, that. He shuddered to think of it getting in his joints. Then he looks up at Arachnae. Then back down at the sand. Finally up once more. "Erm... forgive my stupid question moment, but you DID bring something to carry this... stuff in, right?"

Arachnae laughs softly as she steps off the dunes to the tide line, ignoring the waves barely brushing feet. "Of course I did. A few flexible containers." She tips wing and rummages in a side compartment, coming up with two collapsed containers. "Here. One for you. One for me. Stick with the cleanest sand and the dryest you can find. White is best."

F-1 Ligier JS-II emerges from the city of Orlando.

F-1 Ligier JS-II has arrived.

Fleet accepts the container and kneels down, grimacing as he imagines it slipping into knees. Of course, he was built much better than that, but he has a vivid imagination. He... un-collapses the collapsible container and reaches for a patch of nice, white, clean looking sand, frowning as most of it runs off his hand. Well. Obviously a different approach will have to be taken.

Primus only knows what Foxfire's doing way out here, and *how* he got out here in the first place. Surely coming all the way to Florida from California is too far for a little cassette to travel on his own, but then again, he has his ways. He walks along the side of the road, every now and then leaving some pawprints in various patches of dirt.

The blue and white racing car slowly changed into a robot

Mirage sighs and sits by the side of the road quite some way from the beaches, wondering why his evil excuse for a player has dragged him back to Earth, then starts the regular "I hate this planet, it's a backwater mud-ball, I wanna go home" train of thought.

Hey! Is that the Orlando exit? Why yes it is! And that's where the Porsche seems to be heading. Someone's going to have to get some mickey mouse ears to drag home with him.

Arachnae bends to a knee, ignoring the nigh ceaseless complaining of some beachgoers as she begins digging into the sand with a taloned hand. Absently, she flicks wings, enough to stir the air about her and gently 'push' those too close. The container is snapped open as she starts to scoop material into it. "Sometimes.. I wonder about the intelligence of these natives." Absent conversation with Fleet. Yes, we have the not-so-bright-people cameoing this episode. She pauses in her scooping to 'shoo' with a hand, "Go away. Nothing to see here." at the onlookers.

Fleet frowns at the encroaching humans. "Indeed," is his only reply as he considers whether it would be worth the effort to squash one or two to give the others the idea. He would, unfortunately, have to clean the mess off later, and while he isn't particularly vain (considering being 'pretty' to be something of a design flaw, in all honesty) cleanliness was important for aerodynamic reasons. He settles for knocking a few of them back - gently, from his perspective - and began scooping the sand in the container in a more efficient manner.

Foxfire is only half aware of his surroundings; most likely he's too busy enjoying his stroll. And that's unfortunate for him, as there's a few puddles on the road from a previous rainfall--a car goes right through one of them, and poor Foxfire suddenly finds himself covered in muddy water. "Thanks," he grumbles sarcastically to the driver (dispite said driving not being able to hear him), and tries to dry himself off.

Porsche 935 Turbo heads towards the city of Orlando.

Porsche 935 Turbo has left.

Arachnae starts.. humming ot herself as she seems to take a 'scoop' of sand from random seeming points on the dune and beachfront. Wings remain canted behind her neatly. "Spread out where you remove sand from, Fleet. The dunes can rebuild themselves providing we don't do too much structural damage." She's back to ignoreing the natives, who at this point are calling authorities.

Mirage looks up, seeing a crowd of humans gathering further down on the other side of the road, not knowing they're staring at the two Decepticons, his thoughts on his beloved home-planet.

"They rebuild themselves? But... through what means?" the yellow seeker asks, curious. It was just... grit. No automated replenishment systems that he could observe! Even so, he starts to be more careful about where he gets the sand from, taking it from multiple locations. And less careful about the humans who just CAN NOT TAKE a LEAKING HINT! He more or less ignores them, but if one gets in the way, he brushes it away, using more force each time.

Arachnae chuckles softly as she bends and scraps sand into her container. "It's part of a cycle here, Fleet. We can take bits of this sand, but eventually the water's motion will roll over and redeposit more sand from elsewhere in its place. Providing that we do not take too much."

As he continues to rid himself of his watery attire, Foxfire perks his ears, detecting a somewhat familar voice...and another that's not so familar. Narrowing his optics slightly, the tape forgets about his wet state and heads toward the voices, wondering what he'll find.

after a while, Mirage gets out and transforms

Mirage nodded as he transformed into his vehicle mode.

F-1 Ligier JS-II slowly drives past the now human-free beach the Decepticons are at, so lost in his thoughts he fails to notice them.

Fleet narrows his optics and scrunches up his nose as much as his metal nose will scrunch, still continuing about his work. "So the water brings the sand from elsewhere, okay... but where does it come from to begin with? How is it generated?"

Arachnae headtilts and peers at the sand a moment, "Well.." frown as she remembers someone else going on .. and on about sand. Not all that long ago really, "Rocks. Breaks down from rocks into smaller and smaller particulates."

Foxfire speeds up his pace until he's at a gallop, still heading in the direction his audio receptors are telling him to go. He heads away from the road and hops on top of a particularly large stone, to get a better view. He stands motionlessly for a few moments, studying what he sees. Arachnae, huh? And an unfamilar seeker...interesting. Foxfire activates his hologram system, as he did during his encounter with Reflector, and seems to vanish, leaving another rock in his place...and he slowly begins to approach the Decepticons with this disguise.

F-1 Ligier JS-II stops in front of the beach, on the opposite side of the road and sighs, still deeply thinking of home.

This is all too much for the planetary newcomer! "But... why is this form better than just getting rocks?" The seeker continues to scoop up sand as he speaks. "Or am I just asking too many questions for the moment?"

Arachnae hehs softly, "Because it's already broken down into small particulates, easier to melt, already sifted by weight and mass as well. Hald the work of breaking rock down is sorting it all out."

Fleet's container of sand is close to getting full. If any handy Autobots wish to try to interfere with the Decepticon's fiendish sand theft, they'd better act fast, because bedtime approacheth for this little yellow seeker.

"Ah, okay," he replies to Arachnae's explanation. He couldn't argue with that, he supposed.

Apparently going unnoticed, Foxfire moves closer, though he can't resist chuckling to himself as some nearby humans stare at what seems to be a rock moving of its own volition. Once he's near, he stops, and just sits there, surrounded by his hologram, and watching the Decepticons quietly.

Arachnae shifts wings and studies the level of sand first in her container, then in Fleets. "Hmm. this should be well enough for my purposes Fleet. Thank you." Smile crosses her face as she stands, dusting hands off absently.

Fleet closes the container and stands up. He's a bit more attentive in his off-dusting. "Not a problem, Arachnae. It's certainly been a... learning experience. I suppose, since I must operate on this world, that I really had better begin studying it." The tone of his voice and expression on his face indicates that this isn't the most pleasant of prospects, perhaps ranking somewhere around submitting himself to Fulcrum for a 24 hour multi-part medical scan. But, like the medical scans (the less lengthy ones, anyway), it was a necessity.

<OOC: And, uhm, the ‘Cons made a clean get-away from their sand raid. Victory Through Apathy!>