Transformers: Twilight of the Golden Age Part II

“Wait! You didn’t pay me!” Zip complains, before being picked up by Coalburn and carried to Killstreak’s suite.

Sparkplug decided to study the offworlders: there was this angel-like bot. Sparkplug didn’t knew if the wings were actually helping him to fly, or if those were just a nice decorative mod. There was this blue bot that seemed to have a relation with the purple fembot that just left. The bot didn’t have anything special to him. The second angel-like bot, this time black, was partially scaring him, making him to feel uncomfortable. The black wasp was also studying the natives of the world, and she was swinging a green gemstone tied by a small rope on one of her index fingers. The small, golden armoured Minicon seemed inoffensive, but Sparkplug couldn’t say the same about the Dinobot and the big, four-armed, gorilla like bot. Those two could be an actual danger.
Should he say something? Sparkplug always wanted to leave Elementum, but he didn’t had the chance to do so. Now that he knew that these offworlders were recruiting other robots, he was desperately wanting to go with them.

Sol slowly turned up the heat, hoping to subtly force seraphicon to mind his own space

Seraphicon wasn’t being so close to be invasive. One of his wings prepared to move to make a counter-wind if the guy didn’t turn down the flames.

“A little cold never hurt anyone,” Liege Maximo says, knowing full well that the statement wasn’t entirely correct.

The procession is led into the valley, the wind and snow picking up slightly. Some of the flora closer to the glowing crags were speckled with twinkling spots that matched the glow coming from within.

Myriad scanned the crowd and saw Sparkplug scrutinizing the group. She noted him, in case that would be useful information for later. She turned back to Veneficus. “Is it cold all the time here?”

“Not always,” answers Veneficus, “however our winters are rather long-lasting.”

Myriad nodded in understanding. “Do you get many visitors?”

“Unfortunately not,” he replies. “Travel between the colonies has never been terribly common; no one knows why that is.”

Once again, Myriad nods. “That’s a shame. I wish people would visit other colonies, it gives them a taste of what’s out there.”

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Veneficus nods.

“I wish I could travel more, as well,” he confesses. “However my duties keep me here, most often.”

Sol cooled the flames, though contorted a flame around his hand subconsciously, noticing it he withdrew, interesting…

“I wouldn’t have traveled from my home-world if Daybreak hadn’t come. I didn’t have the time or the money.”

Veneficus nods, understanding.

“What is your homeworld, may I ask?” he inquires, curious.

Myriad shrugs. “I was made on Cybertron, but I moved to Vergrandia for a while.”

Veneficus turns suddenly.

“Tell me, what is Cybertron like?” he asks, an air of excitement to his voice. Like most who inhabited the Prime colonies in this day and age, he had never seen the planet in person; only through old historical records.

“currently overrun by the heralds forces, forces that I expected to be here shortly.” Replied Sol, “though typically it’s a beautiful metropolis, granted I haven’t been there for several million years, so it might be different.”

Myriad shrugs. “Like Sol said, some pretty bad guys took over and messed it up. That’s why I moved to Vergrandia. I wasn’t gonna get myself scrapped. I wouldn’t really know, but I would assume that it’s crazy over there.”

Veneficus looks away, up at the night sky. He had always wanted to see Cybertron for himself, however its’ coordinates had long-since been lost to the people of the Prime colonies. The Primes had done that purposefully, he knew, in hopes of making Cybertron completely independent from their influence. However, since Quintus Prime had sabotaged such plans by secretly leaving the Matrix behind, he often wondered if that course of action was still necessary.

“That is most unfortunate,” he comments. “Hopefully you are successful in your quest, and perhaps…”

“…bah, never mind,” he dismisses the thought with a wave of his hand.

Firestorm warmed up his armor so Liege also could stay warm.

OOC: GTG, movie night.