Transformers: Twilight of the Golden Age

OOC: the fight for the Mask would be of interest and Liege is pretty much parting the proverbial Red Sea of beast-formers as he and Firestorm are walking in that general direction.

IC: Seraphicon mentally registered The Shadow’s presence.

He pulls an ornate glass of the diluted dark energon and sips

OOC: Where’s that going on exactly?

OOC: Valley of Onyx Prime; it’s close by.

IC: Seraphicon mentally notes that The Shadow is consuming a diluted Dark Energon mixture but says nothing.

The Predaking watches the fight from a nearby hillside. He focuses on Asrar, in particular. It wasn’t unusual that the Lord of the Predacons didn’t recognize this particular specimen- there were billions of Predacons on Eukaris, after all, and he couldn’t be expected to know them all by spark. What puzzled the Predaking was how strange Asrar looked; he noted how, on some areas of his body, his organic components seemed to be infesting the machinery, rather than blending with it like most techno-organic beings.

The Predaking watches on, wondering what secrets this enigmatic being held…


A ripe, red fruit splatters against the side of Liege Maximo’s head.

Firestorm glared in the direction of where the fruit came from, You and I both know that would make things worse. He thought as Dark magnified the temptation to yell at whomever threw that.

He wants to ask Liege if he could help clean off the fruit from his head but decides against it when he recalls how this Prime was a bit proud and would likely not appreciate the question.

He decides to be ready to intercept any more projectiles that would hit Liege.

Disgraced or not, Liege was still a Prime and one of Firestorm’s old leaders.

“That guy doesn’t seem that powerful!” Ironjaw said, reffering to Apex.
“Well… He is the leader around for a reason!” Skorn said.

Liege grunts as he wipes the juices off his face with his hand.

No doubt I deserved that, he thinks.


“So… 's he a zombie or what?” Bootleg asks as he, Salvage and Nightfall keep watch over Simulare’s cell.

“Ten shanix says he is,” Salvage bets.


Meanwhile, on Junkion…

Wastebasket strides into Refuse’s office, carrying a tablet under his arm.

“What’s new, 'Basket?” the leader of Junkion inquires.

“Gigantion law enforcement is still looking for Voltex and Jewel Pax,” Wastebasket lists, “Chaplain and Autobahn suggest that Glaive’s fleet be moved behind Artemis- oh, and that petition to make that one cover of “Country Roads” the new planetary anthem is nearing its’ required number of signatures.”

“Seriously?!” comes Refuse’s reply, “The universe is goin’ ta hell in an Energon cube, an’ people’re still on that?!”

“… What’s wrong with John Denver, anyway?” he adds in a quiet grumble.

“We also have yet to see results from that hacker’s incursion into the Basilica,” Wastebasket continues, “And PaxTech was destroyed just a few hours ago.”

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Simulare’s lights go purple as the color drains from his body

Firestorm evades the debris and keeps following Liege.

We really need to catch up on what we missed; last I recall, Liege wasn’t the most loved of the Primes but not normally to this level. Firestorm thought.

Yeah, Dark replied, I’ll remind you about that when we raise ship.

“Looks like you gotta pay up,” Salvage says to Bootleg.

“I never took the bet, jacka**,” refutes Bootleg.

Liege takes a seat near Daybreak, allowing himself to be hit by a few more organic projectiles.

It contorted as it rose to it’s feet

Firestorm did his best to keep them from hitting Liege but, due to him being so small, some slipped past the Knight.

Seraphicon looks at Liege and Firestorm, “What brought you guys out here?” He asks politely.

“The venue goin’ on here.” Firestorm answered, Seraphicon saw the small Knight wasn’t saying everything but didn’t question further as there was probably a good reason why.

“The venue is Asrar challenging Apex to a fight; the winner gets ownership of the Mask.” Seraphicon explains.

Firestorm sees Predaking on the hill watching, “Who’s that giant?”

“If I had to hazard a guess,” Seraphicon said, “I would say that might be Predaking; mainly because he seems to be the biggest and likely strongest Predacon native to this world.”

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“Uh… do we lower the shield, open the door an’ blow it to bits, or do we wait for it to starve or somethin’?” Bootleg asks Nightfall and Salvage.

“How about we give the second option a try?” Salvage suggests.

Liege Maximo’s optics widen as he shifts his attention to the Predaking, hoping against logic that the beast did not harbor Ill will towards him, as seemingly everyone else did.

As it stood up the color returned, “did you miss me?” Asked simulare sarcastically

“Like that cosmic rust infection on my last arm,” Bootleg dryly quips.

Firestorm tapped Liege, “Don’t worry; if they attack us, they may risk an interstellar incident and possible war and I don’t think this world’s leaders would want that on their hands.” He said in Ancient. He gives Sol a look that silently asks that if he does translate that, it be done quietly.

He cracked his knuckles, grinning sadistically


Sol translated it loud enough for everyone to hear

“Thank you,” Seraphicon said sincerely, “I was actually curious what was being said.”

Come to think of it, I need to learn Ancient; that was always my weaker subject in my studies. he thought.

Bootleg appears unintimidated.


The Eukarians around the group glare at Liege.

“I’d rather we not interfere with the admittedly entertaining duel going on right now,” says the disgraced Prime calmly.

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