Transformers: Tournament of Terror. RP Topic

“You know, that’s actually a good point.”
Razorclaw said.
“A lot of the bots here don’t really have a place to go after this. I’ve heard talk about all us prisoners making our own colony together. Personally I’d want to go back home. Yeah, Kaon is a dump, but I got s lot of friends back there. But for everyone who doesn’t want to or even can’t go to Cybertron, I think setting up our own place where we can just do whatever is a pretty nice idea.”

“Ope.” Machbreaker whimpers out.

Well, Warpath couldn’t do anything at the moment anyways, so no screaming. Hopefully, he just won’t be too mad when he can. They inspect the back and try to have the scanner move over it.

Tie-Grabber gives Oddball a thumbs up.

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The scanner was able to reach with little issue. It revealed that some critical nerve-wires had been cut, rendering the autobot paralyzed. The injury was rather clean, and wouldn’t be all that hard to fix.

“So what does Iota have them do with all that time on their hands?” Backbreaker asks.

First things first, the two put Warpath back on the table and try to secure him down. No telling what will happen when they put the wires back together and they last thing they need is the Autobot going ballistic. Once there, if there’s already an opening, Machbreaker tries to fit his hands inside and repair the the wires. If there’s not an opening, the look to see what would be the least…intrusive way to open him up and get to it. After which, Machbreaker puts the wires back together and some small connector to ensure they stay together. Like wirenuts or some other equivalent that Transformers would use.

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“That I cannot answer. What those four do when off the battle field is something only they and Iota know.”

The injury was made through a critical transformation joint. The opening was small, but not inaccessible to a minicon’s small and dexterous hands.

After the task was complete Warpath remained still. He opened and closed his hands a few times, as a means of testing things out. Once assured he could move again, the autobot started to get up. Snapping through the restraints with minimal effort.

He sat up on the table and quickly got back on his feet. Heading towards the exit, muttering angrily to himself.

Railfire said.
“Although you may be able to move again, you shouldn’t leave just yet. There’s still the matter of your chest wound. I insists that you-”

“I’m fine 'doc.”
The autobot growled as he walked out of the medical ward.

@ProfSrlojohn @Chromeharpoon @keiththelegokid @ajtazt

Meanwhile, in the depths of space, a large ship roams the cosmos. A pirate ship known as the Iron Maw. A huge mechanical crocodile head extended from the front. And two massive solar sales adorned each side of the craft. Each one marked with a horned insignia.

Inside, two predacons lay quietly in their quarters. Both trying not to focus on the middle bunk of their triple decked charge bed. The wall next to the abandoned bed was covered in posters and images. Runes and symbols of a long gone era. Books stacked high, telling fantastical stories of gods and giants. All of it had been left unattended for quite some time now.

“You know… I never thought things would be so quiet without him.”
One of the two said solemnly. He was a tall and fit dragon bot. His body a vibrant crimson from head to toe. Two halves of his beast mode head served as shoulder pads.

Another several long moments of silence passed.

“Do you think he’s doing alright?”
He asked.

“I try my best not to think otherwise.”
Replied the other predacon. A short and stocky individual, mostly brown in color, who also had a dragon beast mode.

Just then a voice rang from a speaker mounted in the corner of the ceiling.
“Torchwing, Bluntforce. You’re needed on the bridge.”

“Oh thank Primus.”
Said the red predacon, Torchwing. Thankful that there was something to take his mind off of things.

The two predacons got up and walked out, quickly making their way to the bridge of the ship, where their captain was waiting for them. A large and tough looking purple predacon. Scars of all kinds covered his body. A robotic crocodile head was hung over one shoulder, and a tail to match over the other.

“Thank you two for coming.”
He said. His tone was quiet and melancholy.
“I think you can both guess why I called you here.”

“Maximus right?”
Torchwing replied.

The captain sighed.
“Aye. Its been more than two weeks since he and his maximal friend left on their expedition. And he hasn’t so much as answered any of my transmissions.”

“Lockjaw, sir. I’m sure he’s fine. This isn’t easy for any of us, but you shouldn’t assume the worst.”
Bluntforce, the brown predacon, offered in a comforting tone of voice.

“No. The predacon I raised wouldn’t have gone silent for this long. Something’s wrong. I dread to think what it might be, but I know something happened.”
Lockjaw replied. He was growing noticeably distressed.

“So… Your orders captain?”
Torchwing asked.

Lockjaw was quiet for a moment. Closing his eyes and collecting his thoughts. When he opened them again, he looked at the two with a stern and determined expression.
“Go. Find Maximus. Do whatever you have to do, but find him… And bring my boy home.”

The two gave a quick and hearty salute.
“Aye captain!”

Torchwing and Bluntforce quickly ran out of the bridge and made their way to the hanger. Shortly afterwards a small shuttle craft blasted from the Iron Maw.

“Don’t worry little buddy…”
Torchwing said softly to himself.
“We’re coming for you.”


Backbreaker is silent, and Oddball tries to keep still while Railfire patches him up.

The medic mamaged to work with the occasional squirm or fidget. It didn’t help, but it wasn’t much of a hindrance.

“Backbreaker, may I ask something of you?”
Railfire said.

As he breaks out, Machbreaker and Railgun bolt, hiding behind various equipment. Once he goes, they help Tie-Grabber in organization and cleaning. Preparing for the next bot to come in. Also eavesdropping as normal, but not contributing to any conversations yet.

Oddball waves to the minicons.

Fwoo!” he greets them. “Wa-vee-do-bap-dee?”

"Hey guys! Y’all watch me and Bulkhead fight earlier?

“Sure,” Backbreaker says with a shrug.

“Whir! Whir whir!” “Scrap yay! You did awesome!” Tie-Grabber responded loudly, fisting the air.

Machbreaker and Railgun didn’t say anything, but based on their smiling faces they definitely agreed with Tie-Grabber.

Soon after, Hotshot walked in.

“Hey doc. I need to ask you a favor.”
The autobot said.

“If you can’t tell, I’m rather busy. And will be for quite some time.”
Railfire replied. Trying his best to keep a patient tone.

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to do a thing. I just need to talk to those minicon friends I’ve heard about. I got a great idea, and I’ll need their help to pull it off.”

“If you want their help you can speak to them. I will not be one to make decisions for them.”
Railfire said. Deciding to let the three show themselves on their own terms.

“Since I will be busy hear, I want you to look in on Maximus. Last I saw he was in the training arena, repeatedly fighting against some dragon predacon simulation. I let him be, I find these things are best worked out on their own. But I’m still worried. I just want to be sure he hasn’t hurt himself too bad.”

“_Zip-woo-do-bap!” Oddball replies.

“I think I made a new friend, too!”

Backbreaker grunts as he climbs onto his feet.

“Alright,” he sighs. “I’ll go check up on the kid.”

“Thank you. I greatly appreciate it.”
The medic replied, still keeping his focus on Oddball.

With that, Backbreaker leaves the medical bay and lumbers off to the training room.

The training arena was in quite the state of disrepair. In fact, this is the worst that it’s looked in quite a long while. Cracks and craters covered the rocky floor, while a number of predacon sized dents were spread across the metal walls. Of course the simulations were incapable of causing real physical damage. Meaning that all of this had to come from Maximus. Likely from him impacting with the various surfaces.

Though the simulator was inactive, and Maximus was notably absent from the area.

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Backbreaker mutters a curse. Somebody was going to have to fix all of this, and he was sure glad it wasn’t gonna be him. Hopefully.

But, he still had to find Maximus, so he walks back out into the commons to look for clues to the Predacon’s whereabouts.

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The commons were fairly active as many were having their afternoon energon. Most bots seeming to have gotten used to the reduced rations by now. However, Maximus wasn’t here either.

Backbreaker starts asking around if anybody had seen Maximus recently.

“New guy. Predacon- not those Predacons, I mean. Dark armor. Has that weird thing going on with his eyes. Any of you seen him around…?”

Most didn’t notice him anywhere. Many have been actively trying to avoid the kid since that incident a few days ago. Blackout however was the first to offer some meaningful information, albeit somewhat annoyed, as Backbreaker had seemingly interrupted one of his creations yet again. He simply pointed one of his large clawed digits towards the barracks, saying nothing.

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