Scrapshot does, he looks for a spot to pay for his sparring match.
Zepar was thinking about something as he was drinking his Energon.
…Very useful creatures… he recalled from when he spoke about the Cryo Condor.
Thrust, while he waited for the Salvation’s two scientists, further examined the console.
He took note of anything of use, storing it away in his extensive memory.
Vigor and Riot, bored, began playing the Terran game “Rock Paper Scissors.”
Fuse examined some of the exposed circuitry and wiring, intruiged. “This is amazing stuff.” he said. “We could reuse this tech for some seriously good weapons.” He smiled.
LightShift watched his brothers, as he stood next to MatchStick. “So, what brought you to the Salvation?” He asked curiously.
@Chromeharpoon
It looked as though fifty shanix needed to be deposited into a nearby terminal.
“…E-yup, and that’s how I took down Constructicon Maximus with nothin’ but some PVC pipe,” Thrift could be heard finishing his story to the commandos.
“You’re pullin’ our legs!” one accuses of the junkion.
“Ah, but am I, though?” replies Thrift wryly.
Indeed, Sprocket might be able to make some use out of whatever could be salvaged from the wreck. If nothing else, though, he’d be sure to pay anybody who brought him anything interesting.
“I suppose I was just… looking to get away from the war, for a while,” Matchstick replies.
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“Beating someone with only a PVC pipe?” Zepar asked as he turned to walk over to Thrift, his tone showing he found it funny.
Thrift turns his attention to Zepar.
“Yeah, you heard that right,” he says coolly. “Bet not even Magnus can say that.”
“I’m investigating . . . an energon theif. And everytime I’m about to get somewhere something or someone gets in my way.”
Flareshot lied to Halfrunner about the investigation. He still didn’t know who the traitor was and didn’t want information getting out.
“Ah, yeah, that sounds rough,” Halfrunner sympathizes. “Sometimes the universe seems committed to just getting in our way, any way it can, huh?”
“Heh, took the words right out of my mouth”
Flareshot took a large swig of his drink.
Scrapshot deposits the 50 Shanix and walks over to the drone.
OOC: Shanix is now at 6,480
IC: Daria sighs leaning back in her seat. She decided it would be best to have another glass of energex
“What was that guy’s name again?” He asked.
OOC: Here’s hoping he slips up; Zepar won’t get after Thrift but will be amused.
Halfrunner chuckles.
“Well, I hope you find your thief,” Halfrunner says. “We got enough to worry about with somebody leaking our location to Bludgeon; we don’t need to be dealing with that nonsense, too.”
“Who? Constructicon Maximus?” Thrift asks.
The drone activates. The humanoid automaton steps out of its charging station and brandishes a stun baton.
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Zepar nods, “I’m unfamiliar with any information about them,” he said as he took a seat, “Care to enlighten me?”
OOC: if Thrift is referring to Devastator, I’m gonna laugh.
Thrift props his feet up on the table.
“Well, sure!” he happily complies.
“Decepticon; big, scary guy- or, well, guys, maybe. He was a combiner. Basically, he was the 'Con’s go-to team of construction types before Devastator came along.”
“Anyway, they deployed him on Junkion maybe seventy years back to take out an Autobot garrison stationed in Junkheap’s Gorge, and I happened to be in the area.”
Zepar nods listening as he drank his Energon.
Thrift continues.
“Yeah, so me and the garrison are giving him hell, but the guy just won’t go down,” he says. “Eventually, one thing led to another, and I find myself all alone, out in the open, and my weapons were shot. It’s just me and Constructicon Maximus, when out of the corner of my eye, I see some pipe poking out of a pile of scrap.”
Fuse continued looking for anything that was interesting or useful.
Lightshift nodded. “Didn’t we all…” he mused.
“Then what?” Zepar asked, “did you manage to jam a joint or what?” He knew how brittle PVC was compared to Cybertronian armor and one would either have to be incredibly lucky or the most brilliant weapons master in the universe to bring down a Combiner with a dinky plastic pipe.
There were many sections of the ship that appeared to have been set aside for worship. These rooms were decorated with monuments honoring the Thirteen, the primal mandala (each of the Thirteen’s crests arranged around the “Prime” cyberglyph or a depiction of the Matrix of Leadership), and other images and iconography relating to the cybertronian faith.
It might also be noticed that the interior of the ship might seem a bit bigger than the exterior would suggest.
“M-hm,” agrees Matchstick. “Uh, specifically, I was running from a rather troublesome bounty hunter some high-class Decepticon had hired to do me in.”
“Yeah, something like that,” Thrift replies.
“Well, I did what any true junkion would do: I invoked the name of Leroy Jenkins and drew that thing out of the rubble like the Sword in the Stone!” he says proudly. “I could describe the ensuing duel in all its detail, but honestly that’d take too much time, and, truthfully, I don’t believe I even have the ability to faithfully describe its epicness in its required vividity.”
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And with that, I’ll attribute (if that actually happened) that you got ridiculously lucky. he thought as he chuckled, “What are the odds of that kind of thing actually being successful?” He wondered out loud.