OOC: ah.
IC: Gladius watches the drone video.
“Why are they just standing there?” he wonders.
@BlackBeltGamer98 Razorwing’s eyes widen. “Whoa there, take it down a notch.”
Firestorm nods, “Sorry, it’s pretty obvious I don’t like them.” He said as he began walking in the direction of the craft. His weapons were at the ready in the event that there were still stragglers.
OOC: @Ace, @Traykar, Razorwing and Firestorm are approaching the ship that had the Flatheads.
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Razorwing had deployed his subsonic repeater.
“They’re like statues,” Doohickey comments as she observes the motionless combatants. “What gives?”
“Well slag,” Bootleg groans. “We broke spacetime, didn’t we?”
Firestorm kept going, keeping an eye out for anything out of the norm.
As did Razorwing.
OOC: and now we wait. And talk, I guess.
IC:
“We didn’t break spacetime,” Gladius assures Bootleg. “How could we have?”
“I dunno,” Bootleg says, throwing up his hands, “I’m sure we did somethin’!”
“Maybe it’s a staring contest?” Bob offers.
OOC: and then the silence 
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OOC: ironic, huh?
IC: Ironclad pays one fifth of the entry fee, expecting the others to do the same.
A bar on the console filled a fith of the way up
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Ironclad waits.
“Finally! Some movement!” Bootleg cheers.
A map appeared aside the console, “this is your arena, anyone who exits is disqualified. Melee only. And you shall not be told where the other teams are to promote strategy.”
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“There are other teams?” Ironclad repeats to himself.
“five and counting”
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“This’ll be interesting,” Gladius notes as he, Bootleg, and the ex-Autobots watch.
Ironclad patiently waits.
Razorwing follows Firestorm as he searches the Quintesson ship for salvage.
Firestorm was looking for anything that was still functioning and hoping that any sort of beacons on this thing were permanently offline
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Razorwing glances around. He wasn’t an expert on Quintesson technology, but he likely knew enough to spot anything valuable.
The console waits for the other fiths
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Doohickey tinkers with her exo-suit, which was slumped in a chair in the bar, as she watches.
This thing really needs a name, she thinks.
OOC: nope. I’ve just been waiting for you and @KAI_BORG
IC: Ironclad waits for his teammates to pay their share of the entry fee.
The rest of the ensemble watches from the bar.
“Hey guys,” Doohickey calls, “what should I name my suit?”
“Name?” Gladius repeats.
“Yeah, name. I need to call it something.”
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OOC: You waited for me? For two days? Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanks!
IC: Mordo was surprised. They weren’t the Seacons Gladius talked about.
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