EVENT ONE: JUNE 21ST-28TH

[luminals]

TAKE BACK KNOWHERE
When: June 21-28
Who: Everyone.
Where: All over Knowhere, ending in the Continuum Cortex and Observation Deck.

Event details are here, IC announcement is here.

Prose & Action brackets are both acceptable ways of posting to these comments, please be mindful of what threads you are posting under!

Comments

OBSERVATION DECK

[luminals]

Rodimus | OTA

[rodders]

( The blasts from the organics attempting to take over hurt more than Rodimus had expected them to - and his growing frustration with the ability of whatever he was fighting to meet him blow for blow was clearly evident. He'd been fighting for four million years, flighting against some weird fleshling shouldn't be proving this much of a challenge.

Rodimus doesn't dodge one of the shots in time and he grunts in pain as he can feel the burn in his side. He ignores it - his systems will take care of it once the fighting's done, he's sure of it. Instead he falls back to try a different form of attack - changing into his alt-mode and driving straight towards the things, hoping to at least knock one of them off the sticks they were walking on or whatever they were doing.

But his target simply steps aside even though Rodimus knows it was looking the other way. There's a frustrated growl from him as he slams on his breaks into a sharp turn, transforming out of his alt-mode so that he can slide backwards while staring that spawn of a glitch down.

He's got this though, he's totally got this. )

[alwaysadrift]

[Megatron had issued him orders, and given that the former warlord was now the Lost Light's captain, Drift had a whole lot more reason to follow them. Not an obligation mind, but the tactics still made sense, sending him to the Observation Deck.

He's still not sure what to think about the news regarding Rodimus though. It's altogether unsettling beyond the grief issue, which he's fully in denial of by the way. Rodimus had survived plenty of things in his long life, how could he just... No, there must be some weird explanation for it all.

It's a whole lot easier to just dive into combat and not have to think about it yet, which is why Drift's swords are dancing with a speed like he's never pushed himself too, thinking that if only he can catch them off guard the next one will land a hit. Except off guard never really happens.

He vaults backwards to avoid a barrage of fire, engine giving a heavy growl of frustration, until he slams into something hard--something distinctly his size--that wasn't there a few moments ago.]

Hey, watch yourself--!!

[rodders]

( What the-- )

You watch it, you-- ( He turns and whatever he's about to say dies in his throat when he sees who's just run into him. The frustration vanishes in a happy grin because it's Drift. It's Drift and suddenly being stuck wherever this is doesn't seem so bad. ) Drift? Drift!

( Rodimus promptly forgets the fact that they are in a fight to just beam at his best friend who is not dead and right there. It's probably not the wisest decision but he's in the habit of not making those, so why start now? Except then the guilt slams into him despite his best efforts and his face falls ever so slightly.

How's he supposed to tell Drift about everything that's happened since he left? Where would he even start? We found the Circle of Light but Dai Atlas is dead and oh yeah, Star Saber, Tyrest, and Pharma are the circle of crazy bots?

Eh. He'll think of it later. )

[alwaysadrift]

[The field of his aura is crackly with aggravation, something that spikes when he collides with the other and lashes out in his tone. But it vanishes the moment he sees who it is.]

R-Rodimus?! ...... You're okay!

[He was worried alright? The whole corpse but also being alive thing that Megatron mentioned was way too dismaying. There's a flash of elation and relief, Drift grasping his best friend by both arms for the purpose of hugs or shaking or something.... Followed by a certain awkwardness at how they parted, a thing that was far more painful than he expected it to be.

But it's not really the time for that is it? There's another volley of blasts that comes their way and he fully intends to use his grip on Rodimus to jerk him out of the line of fire.]

Hey I said watch yourself, didn't I?

Robbie Baldwin | Open

[walkingballpit]

It's 'night', according to the station time. It's not any different from 'day' as far as he can tell. Long corridors. Artificial lighting. What windows there were would never open. NASA gave its astronauts a full battery of psych tests for a reason. The Navy did the same for submarine operators. People weren't meant to be in boxed up with no fresh air. It drove them crazy.

In a little alcove in one of the endless hallways that snake through the space station like pixels on an old Nokia, Robbie was sitting up against the wall, keeping a weary eye on anyone that came along. The Observation Deck isn't far. It's close enough that he heard the occasional skirmish, but he ignored the stops and starts as best he could. He didn't want to think about what caused each ceasefire.

A gun rested against his calf; one hand loosely wrapped around the grip. He scavenged it off one of the invaders when it became clear that they were going to need to sleep. The weapon wasn't for him to use, though. It was meant to be a warning. Nothing said armed and dangerous like a gun, no matter what language was spoken.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure if it worked. Robbie aimed at a random spot on the wall and pulled the trigger. It fired, but his aim was about two feet off, judging by the scorch mark. It didn't matter. The gun was the suggestion of the weapon.

[littlecousin]

Robbie?!

[When she hears the shot, Nita's a few hundred feet down the hall and around a couple corners, checking to make sure they haven't backed themselves into a dead end before either of them takes a nap. She does zero to sixty fast enough to make race drivers weep with envy, and almost before the echoes have had time to die, she's hovering next to Robbie, spoiling for a fight against...nothing, apparently.]

Everything okay?

[walkingballpit]

Nita?

[The shout had startled him; he hadn't realized she would hear the shot. Robbie is getting to his feet when she asks him if everything's okay. He looks past her, down the hall that she had been clearing, to make sure that she isn't being chased by anything. Nothing.]

Yeah, everything's fine. I was seeing if it still worked.

[littlecousin]

[She puffs out a breath. Robbie.]

Well, anyway, the hallway in that direction ends with a drop off. Looks like about three stories down to the next level, so we're in good shape.

[Tiny mutant ankle wings, kinetic field--they're not trapped. Nita settles back to the floor on bare feet that somehow never seem to get dirty. Maybe it's an Atlantean thing.]

[gamora]

( Gamora's been spending the down time mapping out Knowhere - she knows the station like the back of her hand and much of it is the same as the one she knows. But there are differences: her quarters simply do not exist and neither does the room Quill's band of losers happened to be headquartered in.

Alternate universe? Probably.

She doesn't tire - thank Thanos for that - not at the rate people should, at any rate. But she's also not an idiot, snatching moments of rest when she can. Her temper is shot to hell and back, however, and when she sees Robbie her only comment is anything but encouraging or reassuring. Not that she ever is to begin with, however. )

You'd better not expect anyone save you if you're planning on wasting all of your ammo.

[walkingballpit]

[Robbie watched the woman approach, eyes looking her up and down. So apparently, they hadn't hit on every alien cliche yet. He had to admit, he greatly preferred 'hot green chick' to 'little green man'. He's not sure if she's an alien, a mutant, Aracely all grown up.

If she's that last one, wow. And he should probably keep her nosy mind away from Nita. ]

1, it's not my gun, so I'd rather burn the ammo than leave it lying around. 2, You'd better not keep assuming people rely on weapons, if you don't want to need saving yourself.

[He set the gun down between his legs and cocked his head to the side.]

Most of the people here are attack first, questions never. Who are you?

[gamora]

I've never needed saving. ( Well there was the once, but as Gamora has complicated feelings regarding her time as a select, she simply chooses to ignore it rather than dwell on it. ) And if you're going to use it, why not make yourself useful?

( Terrans. A half shrug of a shoulder as she runs a hand through her still-short hair, not completely used to the feeling of it growing in. It's the last thing to come back, however, and she'll take it over the option of being dead any day of the week. )

Gamora.

Newt Geiszler • Open

[herpetology]

[ Most of this fight has been less of a fight and more of a dodge for Newt. He has no weapon, no fighting skill beyond his sheer inability to give up anything. He's in it for the long run now, no matter how much of a pain in the ass these things are going to be.

Some part of his brain has been watching and making calculations about everything that's going and about the aliens themselves. He can't help it! His mind's always about collecting data, especially when that data is presented in the form of wicked awesome xenobiology. THEY'RE PRACTICALLY MADE OF SMOKE HOW COOL IS THAT. Other than the whole trying to set everyone ablaze with energy blasts thing. That sucks. A lot.

Newt's pretty sure some hairs have been singed a little with a leftover attack. Any hope of really sitting down to figure out these guys has been taken over with trying to avoid them. Jump, dodge, yell OUT OF THE WAY both as a warning and for his own safety. One thing is really clear: running at these guys is not working. It's getting late. He's already exhausted from the adventures with Kaiju. What the hell are they going to do?

He takes refuge behind a -- something to catch is breath. ]

We need a better plan than this. And lunch. Or none of us are gonna make it.

[ He's thinking out loud, not even realizing that he's talking. It's a habit from dictating notes and thinking no one is going to be around to listen to him anyway. ]

[alwaysadrift]

[Drift is taking a breather too, less for reasons of weariness and more to try and tame the rising frustration. He's crouched off to the side, trying to make himself less of a target as he susses out the tactics here. And it'd be a lie if he said the fight was wearing on him, his systems running hot and his ventilation system working at full capacity.

It's then that he hears the comment from behind him. It's not too startling--he's seen plenty of humanoids around--but he does still turn to look.]

Tell me about it. I feel like I'm chasing ghosts here.

[herpetology]

[ Newt is still of the mind that these mini-Jaegers floating around, kicking ass, are piloted by people. Lucky bastards actually had armor and weapons coming into this thing. ]

No one can get near 'em!

[ Animated as ever, despite being really tired. He looks over his shoulder to watch another attack failed with a blast. A blast that needs some charging, however minute. ]

It's like they know how to get us first.

[ And that's not possible right? Sure some animals can kind of have that sort of precognition deal, but to this extent? In a battlefield? ]

yay I'm back thanks for being patient!

[alwaysadrift]

But how could they know? That's... [Well, maybe not crazy, he's seen some pretty weird things...BUT STILL!] It's like...cheating or something... [grumble.]

[He looks down at the human again, more critically this time.] You doin' alright? Must have some pretty impressive moves if you're out there unarmored like that.

[Not even a gun in sight! He must be one of those cool people like Wing with hand-to-hand skills so elite he needs no other weapons.]

[kirking]

[That observation makes Kirk laugh. He's a couple feet away from Newt, hiding behind the same stretch of wall, trying to catch his breath. And then someone has to go and bring up lunch.]

Yeah. I'd kill for a sandwich right now.

[herpetology]

[ Newt turns to him, squinting through all the gross and cracks now on his glasses. ]

Do you know where we can even find food?

[ He's gotten to know exactly no area of this place yet. Maybe this guy does. ]

[kirking]

Working on it.

[That is code for he has no freaking idea.]

What's your name?

Loki & Jason in space | Open

[badnewsboy]

[a handful of Star Wars references later:]

Ah--they've started without us.

[Loki's poking his head around a corner to get a good look at their alien opponents. they've found away, amazingly, to sneak from the corridors to the Observation Deck without much fuss. having two heads to look out was definitely better than having one.]

And no one looks all that friendly. If only we could negotiate over a round Italian pastry and a large jug of fizzy soda. I hear it does wonders for the temperament, though I have a feeling their ambitions lie elsewhere.

[uneulogized]

If you think Vader's gonna give up on the dark side of the Force for a slice of pizza—feel free. Me? I'm here to fight, and it looks like we're in agreement there.

[The "we" is referring to the fight they're having. While Jason's keen on banter, he's now pretty certain that this kid is going to get himself killed with the way he's going. That doesn't sit right with him. He's about as bad as these guys are with probably similar motivations when it comes to the grand scheme of things, but this isn't the turf he gives a damn about.

So when it comes to that, he can narrow his interests to his typical ones.]

[badnewsboy]

I'm saying it may aid in subduing the masses ...

[the last comment is a bit off-hand, as he really doesn't seem to be thinking about that right now. instead he's looking at the others that have also made it there, his eye on the conflict.]

Er—you see that, right? Those are giant robots, right?

[uneulogized]

Those are giant robots.

[It's more of a statement of confirmation than anything.]

'Least it looks like they're mostly on our side, right?

Drift | OPEN - ANY LOCATION

[alwaysadrift]

((Prose or brackets welcome. Feel free to interrupt/run into Drift at any point, in EITHER location or in-between; he likely repeats this process over the course of the few days that siege mode lasts. Chat with him about battle tactics, go scouting with him for food, trying sleeping in his back seat if you want (if you're nice, he might even let you) or park yourself next to him for a nap instead.))

Even a Cybertronian tires from constant fighting. And though Drift wouldn't hesitate to keep going if he'd been making progress, the fruitless efforts in the Observation Deck were just a waste of precious energy. They needed a new tactic, and they likely needed to pool their resources, discuss what information they had, to find it.

Weariness brings up the fuel issue though. Drift's got a few rations, but those will go fast when shared among the other Cybertonians here. So during those periods where he knows he needs to take a break from the fighting but is too restless to recharge, he goes out scouting the station, moving between the Observation Deck and the Cortex and back again. It's a vain hope, that he might find something they could eat here, but no one should know what it feels like to starve (he rather wishes he could forget). And at the very least Drift's performing perimeter patrol duty, keeping people safe, and perhaps he might find some fuel for the organics in the process. Presuming he can properly identify it that is.

There are times when he must rest though. He's too wary to leave the areas where large groups of people have gathered, strength in numbers after all, so he's taken to recharging in altmode nearby. It's not the same as having a recharge station, but it's something at least, letting his systems idle as he sleeps. The red and white alien looking sportscar probably stands out like a sore thumb regardless of how discreetly he's parked in a side corridor, but given the variety of things around this place? Maybe not as much as he thinks.

Dick Grayson | Open

[pixieboots]

[ A few hits too many and he’ll be down for the count, in a situation without backup, without a back door, without Batman ready to swoop in from within (probably) a few lightyears at least. He doesn’t have time to think it through, he needs to get out of the way until he can settle on a plan B and C.

He tried for another sideways kick and yelps when the energy blast grazes his arm anyway. He can’t fight these things with fists.

He spots a narrower alcove and once he’d heading in that direction he really can’t not see it all around- the wide open expanse of space outside while he’s making a run for it. It’s something alright. Just being here is something, whether it’s an accident or the dumbest kidnapping plot anyone's ever come up with.

But they’ll be time to think it out later. His presses his back against the wall and waits for them to follow him. ]