“I’m sorry. You seem confused.”
Axis said.
“I know the Primes. I’ve spoken to them personally. The 13 are all heroes in their own right, but none of them are gods.”
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If Axis Prime had taken the journal, it would be reasonable to assume that it may have been taken to the Primal Basilica, the great temple in which the Primes traditionally lived. The building is well-fortified by a contingent of Knights of Cybertron.
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“I see, you are not ready, very well.” LD-L1 said, nodding his haid a bit. “If you ever need assistance young prime, please, let me know. It is my sacred duty to assist primes, mortal or ascendant. In the meantime, I must return to the temple to explain to my superiors the nature of the incedent.” Just before leaving, he turned to face Axis again. “You are welcome to join me, of course.”
“Hrm, might be a good place to start.” Ivory thought, beginning his trek there.
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The Primal Basilica is in the center of Iacon, atop a massive tower that rises through the city’s many levels to make the temple level with the surface of Cybertron. It is an extravagant building, adorned in ancient cybertronian glyphs and murals depicting the first thirteen Primes and the Matrix of Leadership. Many parts of the building are open to visitors from the general public, but all entrances are still overseen by a guard.
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Ivory decided it might be better to switch to his cybertronian mode, changing into it out of sight. Once entering into the building, he kept an eye out for a priest or similar individuals who may be knowledgeable about the journal’s contents.
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Headbite looked from both groups her eyes gleaming ruby red as she glanced from Roaster to the official looking fellows. She chittered a little as she twitched, “I don’t know, know…You’re coming I see, I see…”
She stood up slowly clutching her bag, “No putting me to sleep, sleep…”
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The Basilica is staffed by an order of religious cybertronians called the Angelicons, who concern themselves primarily with maintaining important historical and cultural sites, such as this one. The ones here in the temple often worked directly under Axis Prime, and so they’d likely be able to give Ivory the information he sought.
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Ivory would attempt to wave down one of these Angelicon, hoping to speak with one.
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Roaster bit her lower lip at the comment of not putting Headbite to sleep.
“That will make repairs more difficult, but we can discuss that at the facility. Come on, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Roaster says and grabs hold of Headbite, if the bug lets her, and guides her towards the EMTs.
If Headbite goes, Roaster turns back and says to Niko, “Sorry Niko, but our tour has gotten a raincheck. I hope the rest of the museum is enjoyable. You too bigshot.”
Whether she was calling Firestorm or Stonefist bigshot would be a debate for the ages if anyone cared. Though when she passes by Maximus towards the EMTs, she whispers to him.
“Psst! Hey! Could you ask the Prime or whoever keeps track of the Insecticon hives to see who’s willing to take in a new member? Headbite will need a good hive to be rehabilitated. If you could send us options later, that would help immensely.”
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“I have repaired my own innards, innards before with no sleep. That is an autobot, bot tradition thing, thing. I do not like, I do not,” she chittered out shaking her head vigorously.
She blinks as she’s grabbed and then gives a small reassuring smile, for she thought herself quite a scary thing and followed along quite obediently.
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“Well that’s something…” Roaster says and waits for the EMTs to lead them to their facility.
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Graves
Graves pays for his meal and looks for a building to ascend to the roof of and enjoy his food.
Zip and Cargo
Zip audibly sighs and wipes imaginary sweat from his forehead. “Phew! I’ve had enough dangerous encounters for one day.”
“Are you planning on sticking around, Low-Tide, or do you have to return home soon?” wonders Cargo.
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Ivory catches the attention of Codex, a young Angelicon archivist.
“Good evening!” he says to the detective. “How may I help you tonight?”
If Headbite and Roaster are willing, the EMTs lead the two upstairs and to their transport outside. It is a flying vehicle similar in function to a human ambulance, though of course much larger. There is a space at the rear of the craft for the EMTs and their patients to board, loaded with medical equipment, though there doesn’t seem to be any way for the pilot to enter or exit the cockpit. Perhaps the shuttle is particularly large cybertronian.
There are plenty of high buildings that Graves could scale to get a lovely view of the sun as it sets over the horizon. Cybertron’s moons are beginning to climb upward in the sky: Artemis is a solid grey sphere, while Hecate’s surface is coppery and marbled with veins of cyan light.
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During this entire time, Aralysa had been rather quiet, observing everything around her.
“Don’t forget about me; let’s go.” the Hecatan transformer says, heading towards the air ambulance. Meanwhile, Stonefist called,
“Good luck.” and waved goodbye as he ambled off in a random direction in the museum, trying to find something interesting to take his mind off the recent circumstances.
Roaster follows easily, taking Headbite with her in hand. When they board the vessel, she waits for Aralysa and ensures she joins them before the EMTs leave.
This does not help in his concentration to just build. Wherever these parts came from, hopefully it wasn’t something incriminating. These Junkions sure are a piece of work.
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“Beautiful world we live in, huh, STAN?” Graves says, his feet dangling over the ledge of one of these buildings. Next to him, the PEDE mech mirrors his position.
“Cybertron hosts one of the top 300 sunsets in the known universe according to several polling websites,” droned STAN.
Graves cleared his throat. “Ah, typical. We’re so caught up in our comparisons and rankings that we forget to simply enjoy what we’ve been given.” His eyes reflect the twinkle of the setting sun, giving him an unusual warmth to his character.
“How sentimental,” said STAN.
“Of course. When I do it, it’s good. That’s because I’m not a robot.”
“Understood.”
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Headbite glances around semi-nervously with the new clean neat surroundings and eats another cookie…very helpful these cookies, very soothing to the nerves.
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“I will have to decline your offer unfortunately. I have other duties I must attend to.”
Axis replied. It was a lie of course, but she honestly didn’t want to deal with whatever this was.
“However, know that your loyalty is certainly appreciated.”
Maximus nodded.
“Of course. I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m planning on sticking around for a few more days. I really wanna see everything this place has to offer ya know?”
The Eukarian answered.
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“of course ma’am.” He said. He looked a little disappointed, but he kept walking anyway.
“Ah yes, thank you father.” he said,bowing a bit. “I have some questions for you about Sentinel Prime.”
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With all passengers aboard, the transport lifts off and flies to the nearest hospital.
“Do either of you have any certifications or ID on you?” one of the EMTs asks Roaster and Aralysa. “We can’t let just anyone operate on our patients.”
@MaxinePrimal @BlackBeltGamer98 @Rukah
Meanwhile, Watchdog of the Iacon Police arrives at the Grand Museum, searching for more of the vigilantes who took part in the battle at the Hall of Records. He takes sight of Firestorm, Stonefist, and Niko, and pushes his way through the many other visitors in the museum to try and reach them.
A white and blue helicopter approaches the building, bearing the emblem of the Iacon Police on its tail. However, its lights and sirens are inactive.
“Please don’t run, human,” says a voice through the chopping of the vehicle’s rotors. “You’re not in any trouble.”
A police officer approaches, Low-Tide, Zipline, and Cargo, bearing sharp armor plating and canine-like features.
“Excuse me,” he says to Cargo and Zip, “but you two took part in the battle, right? I need you to come with me.”
A small quadbike races into Burthov, bearing the livery of the Iacon PD. It transforms, taking on a spindly and lightly-armored robot form. The officer pants as if out of breath from her long drive through the hills, then begins to wade through the crowd of travelers. A holo-emitter in her hand displays tiny projections of Tokamak and Conjoint, and she stops frequently to talk to passersby.
“Oh, please, don’t call me ‘Father’,” Codex says, shaking his head. “I’m just an archivist; I’m not worthy of such honors. My name is Codex.”
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