Spectrum nods her head, the turns towards the other three.
Facelift cranks his head in their direction as well, noting their concerned expressions.
“…But of course I hope such an occasion never comes to pass!” he backpedals. “I’m just saying that if it did…”
Spectrum looked at the group, then back at the building.
Facelift springs up and clasps his spindly claws together.
“Why, we go inside, of course!” he says.
“Quite right,” the four-armed neutral says.
“0kay!” Spectrum cheered.
Facelift and his captors begin to walk across the bridge toward the ruins, and if Spectrum looked to her left, she might see another one of the Omega Lock’s visions through the fog and shafts of pale light…
Several of the broken bridges had transformed, morphing into a gigantic, bronze hexagonal structure similar to the ones that comprised the surface of the colony of Gigantion. It was a spaceport, Spectrum could see, judging from the myriad of ships resting in skeletal cradles along each of the structure’s sides. One, however, in the very center of the hexagon, stood out from the rest. It was a small, sleek frigate with polished silver plating and two engines bulging from its sides, with a long bow that gave way to the barrel of a cannon that bore more than a passing resemblance to _Salvation’_s main gun. Sunlight glisten’s off the vessel’s hull, and a crowd of cybertronians of every size and shape loitered before a wide hangar door in its side. Two may have looked familiar- an Autobot gunsmith and an inventor, standing in the company of an insecticon thief, an angelicon warrior, a company of bounty hunters, a predacon, a few minicons, and many others…
ooc: yes. YES YES!!!
Spectrum, her curiosity piqued, skipped slightly ahead of the group to get a better look.
ooc: wait… we one did what… is that… is that Asrar! please tell me that it is Asrar! don’t take this away from me. I need Asrar to beat some sense into Driftburn and/or Scrapshot
IC:[quote=“Chromeharpoon, post:2870, topic:49995”]
“Driftburn!” Corona calls, trying to get the bot’s attention. “I haven’t ‘split you into two people’. Not necessarily; your mind and spark are still the same, singular being- your body is all that’s been changed, and that can be undone very simply.”
Driftburn looks at Corona, slightly disheartened, “I know that… but Scrapshot is still a very different person compared to me…Frak, I’m not really the first of us two. I was created in the image of Scrapshot’s brother. I was his projection of his brother. I doubt that I’m truly the real one. I first took form when Scrapshot scanned the this form as an alt-mode, unintentionally… a freak accident.”
Actaeon looks at Corona settling down more, he looked back at the decepticon wondering what he meant.
Daria looks at the dark passage,
“Alright let’s go.”
In the blink of an eye, the vision was gone. The hexagon was once more a tangle of twisted metal beams, and the ship and its crew were nowhere in sight.
“Please, don’t say that about yourself,” Corona asks of Drifturn. “None of us are ‘freak accidents’, Driftburn; Primus forged each and every one of us for a purpose.”
Deus shrugs and begins to walk down the passage.
Spectrum stopped short.
“0h.” She said as the vision disappeared.
She points her pistols at them.
The other four bots hadn’t seemed to notice the vision, walking on toward the entrance to the facility.
The four Decepticons turn their attention away from Zepar. The twins release their comrade and raise their hands in the air.
“Whoa! Whoa!” one exclaims.
“What the hell, lady?!” the copper-colored 'Con asks.
“…So what are you up to?” Salvo asks somewhat awkwardly, gesturing toward Delta. She wasn’t the best at small-talk.
“Who are you all?”
“Trying to train this guy.” she said pointing to Blackbeak.
“Who are you?” Tossup, one of the twins, counters, pointing at Wildsong. “Waving your pistols around, acting like your some sorta gunslinger?”
“Ah,” Salvo reacts, nodding her head. The sunlight glints off the crimson visor that hid her face.
“That’s the trouble with all these drones and mechanimals,” she sighs. “Personally, I prefer it when all I have to do with a weapon is point and shoot. None of that training, or binary bonding scrap.”
“…But that’s just me. Works for some, I know.”
She brought one pistol closer to him.
“Exactly. I’m the one asking.”
“Didn’t asked for a mechanical either, but gotta accept what you get.”
Tossup, Shakedown, and Gearbox deploy photon rifles from their forearms with a series of clicking noises, and aim the weapons at Wildsong.
“And we don’t like having Autobots pointing their guns at us for no good reason,” Shakedown deadpans.
“Boys!” Breakout snaps at his men from behind Wildsong.
“…And lady…” he adds. “Why don’t we all put our guns down and take the path of civil discussion, eh?”
Salvo shrugs again.
“Yeah, that…” she says. “What’s it like, being chosen by Primus or whatever?”
She sighed and put back her weapons.
“I’m still surprised.”
Tossup, Shakedown, and Gearbox put away their weapons, as well.
“There,” Breakout sighs. “Heh; this ‘ole diplomacy thing’s startin’ to grow on me, I think.”
Salvo nods her head again.
“Hm. Yeah; same here,” she comments.
“I mean, guys like the angelicon and that doctor with the cute minicon, I can understand; but Redstocker? Some other drunk who thinks he’s a god, or something? I guess Primus can’t afford to be picky in his dying moments, huh?”
“So who are you?”
“Could have been worse. Remember Road Lord?”
Zepar growled at the neutrals, “Not the best time to be making such remarks.” He said. “Now, what, exactly, happened?”
“Thrift, they’re probably just trying to do their job as guards.” Epsilon said, still not slowing down.