Transformers: Salvation

“I should give him a name. What do you think?”

"Thanks, she said, landing and putting the cube on a side table. “Are those bothering you?” she said, pointing to the holoscreens.

Thrift shrugs.

“I’m crap at naming things. Always seem’s like the best ones are taken, anyhow.”


Sprocket shakes his head.

“Nah.”

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“Cool. They are part of my initial project. Not important.”
She said, before turning to the cube.
OOC: Can I get an image of it? Out of reasons I can’t understand, I associate it to the Nuva Cube.

Paradox quickly turns and faces Scorchlock, looking him dead in the optics.
“Oh now you are the one to talk.” he said. “Yes, Scorchlock which was said to be dead came back and now wants to help me, so how do you want to help me, I am passt redemption, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, fair point.”

The inspecticon looks up at him and chirps loudly.

“What about Click?”

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The cube sits upon the table, the glowing aura seen through one of its faces continuing to ■■■■■ and shine.

Sprocket examines the notes.

“Y’know, usually it’s Decepticon scientists nerding out over combiners,” he jokes. “Nice to see us Autobots getting on the action.”


“Maybe not,” Scorchlock replies with a shrug. “From what I’ve heard, Primus can be a forgiving god.”


Thrift considers the name.

“Huh… I suppose I see a little bit of Scarabax in him,” he says.

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Song nodded quickly before asking:
“Combiners?”

“Yeah, what about 'em?” Sprocket asks. “Aside from the fact that they’re awesome, of course.”

“You said nerding out over combiners. I thought you were suggesting that this thing is related to them.”

“‘Primus’ is dying.” Paradox said. “And if our brotherhood between me and you died, then there is no point in me staying here.”

Meanwhile Redstocker was staying in his wheelchair, watching Paradox and Scorchlock eating the Cybertronian alternative of pop-corn.

OOC: Behold my overwhelming level of unoriginality.

IC: The insecticon chirped happily and danced in a circle on Broadwing’s shoulder, clearly appreciative of the name.

“Click it is.”
Broadwing said happily.

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“What? Oh, no, I wasn’t,” Sprocket says. He gestures to the cube.

“I’ve got no idea what this thing does.”


“…What?” Scorchlock replies. “I’m giving you a shot and redemption, and you’re the one throwing away!”


Thrift responds with a thumbs-up.

Song nodded, as she put one of her fingers under her chin.
“Should we try to try to scan it to see what is inside of it?”

“Oh this is getting interesting…” Redstocker said, taking another ener-pop.

“Redemption?” he asked, chuckling. “It’s a little hard for me to understand your point in this, first you saying we aren’t brothers, though you still act like we are, make up your mind, because it is a bit hard to ask for forgiveness when we clearly know that the big all god is dying.”

Gronius was walking around, before he saw Redstcker spying the two.
“What are you doing, sir?”
“Captain!”
“Captain… What are you doing?”

Sprocket shrugs.

“Don’t see why not.”


“We’re not brothers,” Scorchlock asserts. “Not anymore- too much has happened for that to have remained intact for all this time. But like I said, I wanna help you get your head on straight. Don’t need to be your brother for that, do I?”

“No, you need to get out of my way.” Paradox said, turning his back and walked away.

Scorchlock throws up his hands.

“Gah!”

The wrecker departs, transforming and driving away in the opposite direction.

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