PropertyValue
rdfs:label
  • Delegation
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  • The bright, golden light of Prima Facie and Altera lend this huge section of unbroken surface a soft glow, even through the thick layer of ground metal dust and debris that covers it. The flat, metallic plain continues as far as the optic to see, only to be broken in the distance by the broken ruins of a once great city. Like a Phoenix, the city of Iahex once rose from the ashes of Iacon, and like that same Phoenix, Iahex has once more burned itself out in the fires of war, returning again to ashes. Still, this dreary region of destruction and promises broken has an expectant quality to it, a waitfulness.
TP
  • Home Improvement
dbkwik:transformers2005/property/wikiPageUsesTemplate
Title
  • Delegation
who
Year
  • 2031
Location
  • Iacon Plain, Cybertron, Alpha Centauri, SPACE
abstract
  • The bright, golden light of Prima Facie and Altera lend this huge section of unbroken surface a soft glow, even through the thick layer of ground metal dust and debris that covers it. The flat, metallic plain continues as far as the optic to see, only to be broken in the distance by the broken ruins of a once great city. Like a Phoenix, the city of Iahex once rose from the ashes of Iacon, and like that same Phoenix, Iahex has once more burned itself out in the fires of war, returning again to ashes. Still, this dreary region of destruction and promises broken has an expectant quality to it, a waitfulness. The Phoenix's cycle is never-ending. Fly leads to Sky above Iahex. South leads to Tunnel of Retoris. Fleet has arrived. Bonecrusher has arrived. Scrapper is back to his normal size, which makes building a whole lot easier. The skeleton of the Kaon Casino is in place, with more scaffolds than a species of people who can all fly should ever need. However, it still needs the wall internals, such as the wiring and pipes, installed before Scrapper can even think about paneling. So he's putting the pipes in. He explains aloud, "Y'know, given that we don't actually... use our sewers for much, we sure have a lot of them. Funny, eh?" "Escape routes?" Fleet asks, though, of course, anything that can be used to escape out of a place can probably be used to sneak into it. The Seeker is once more acting as generic grunt, meaning at the moment he's doing Long Haul's job and dropping off a load of supplies. Bonecrusher is also back to HIS normal size, which is not much of a change really. "Wouldn't want acid rain just lyin' 'round in puddles," Bonecrusher points out. "Gotta have proper drainage." Bonecrusher hands Scrapper a pipe big enough for an Autobot to crawl through, as all the pipes are. (also the air vents) Scrapper waves one hand in the air and admits, "I mean, we use them at industrial plants to carry away the byproducts, and acid rain's a good point, but see... escape routes. Yes. Autobots /always/ sneak in using the blasted sewers. Or escape. I have half a mind to install whirling blades of death into these things." He takes the pipe from Bonecrusher and glares at it before setting it into place and wiring up a welder to join it to the previous section of pipe. Fleet frowns and scratches the back of his head as he considers this. He hmms softly. "For some reason, I can't shake the idea that the first time we do something like that, our own lives will absolutely depend on disabling those same blades of death at some point." Bonecrusher suggests, "Howzabout one'a those giant technorganic drill-headed electro-tentacled tunnel monsters? Those are pretty good." Bonecrusher is remembering the time one of those almost killed Starscream and Grapple. That would've been a great day. Scrapper hmms aloud as Fleet points out that the Decepticons might need to escape via the sewers themselves and as Bonecrusher suggests a technorganic. He complains, "Techno-organics are so /expensive/, and you have to feed them, and then someone tries to teach them play fetch... Hrm. What about Autobot-hating sewer drones? I mean, there's only a 51% chance that they'd just hate everyone instead and kill us all." And there, one piece of pipe in place. He looks over at Bonecrusher hopefully. "Wait, you mean... /try/ to kill us all, right?" Fleet asks nervously. He's not of much use here except as critic - one of these days he ought to get himself qualified as a welder. Bonecrusher gives Scrapper more pipe. And a girder, for good measure. There's always room for girders! "That leaves a whole other 49% they won't! Don't be a nancyjet." Blight has arrived. Scrapper can make Fleet carry stuff. That is always good, even if Fleet is a wussy, weak Seekerboi who might blow over in the wind. Scrapper uses the girder as a bracing support for the pipe, because the pipe is big enough for an Autobot to crawl through and therefore needs that kind of support. He notes, "No one likes a Negative Nancy. Though I'm not even sure what that is. Probably a contagious fatal disease. Go get Bonecrusher some rebar." Fleet smiles weakly and says, "Uh, sure. I'll try to avoid being a negative nancyjet." After all, Bonecrusher can beat him up and Scrapper can turn him into a chair, so best not to piss those two off! The Seeker darts away, looking for rebar. Bonecrusher grunts, "It'll have to do." Observing what Scrapper did with the girder, he starts bending girders into W-shaped supports that will hold up the pipe in case something heavy needs to go through it. The rebar is in neat stacks, though not too neat. Scrapper is not the messiest Constructicon, but he is also not the tidiest. Noticing Bonecrusher's work, he agrees, "Yeah, we'll want this rated at least to support a heavy tank." Then he works on welding that pipe section into place. "So this is our Illustrious home. I must say it does look rather delicious." An Insecticon voice calls as Blights flies in, landing by the other decepticons, transforming into his robot form which he hardly ever does, red optics peering out at the others. "Do you need a hand, Scrapper?" He asks as he approaches, watching them. Fleet finds the rebar and tries to gather up as much as he can carry. Then, deciding that that isn't near enough, he puts it down and goes to search out a cart. "I better double these up then," replies Bonecrusher, jamming more W-shaped girders between the ones he and Scrapper have placed so far, so that less pressure would be placed on each individual strut. He looks around at the sound of an Insecticon voice. "What? Naw, this WAS the Autobots' home. Now it's gonna be a casino." Scrapper's arches an optical ridge. "Uh... not really. Home is like IHQ or Darkmount or NCC or Charr. This is a /casino/. If you live here, I'd be honestly worried about gambling addiction." He regards the Insecticon with suspicion, and he adds, "Yeah. I need a /hand/. You got any spares you care to donate? Hands make great roulette wheel pointers." There are some wheelbarrows, Fleet will find, if he looks. Fleet finds a wheelbarrow and pushes it back to the rebar piles. He starts to pile the rebar into the wheelbarrow, then starts to push it back towards the Constructicons. He only accidently upends it and scatters rebar everywhere once. "I see." Blight says and when Scrapper makes the comment of donating his hands, he gives a chuckle, course with the insecticon voice it sounds almost like light screeching. "Nah, but I would think you have plenty to donate, Scrapper, Especially if you use Devastor's hand for the main device." He says as he turns when he hears the noise of rebar flying everywhere. He looks to Fleet and then turns to Scrapper. "I didnt know you could draft seekers to be your lackeys..." "Everyone can draft us as lackeys," Fleet answers, piling the rebar back into the barrow. "We are exceedingly draftable." Scrapper stares at Blight for a long moment, and he wonders why so many Decepticons rolled out of the factory without any processors at all. Oh right, a warrior doesn't need a head, just a good, strong body. He takes a moment off welding to rub his temples. "Blight. I said SPARE hands. Devastator's magnificent hands do not count in any way, shape, or form as spare. They might even be considered essential. I know they say that artists put themselves into a work, but really... I prefer to put other people into my work." He steeples his hands and looks Blight over thoughtfully, as if wondering if Blight would make a good sliding door. Scrapper does nod, satisfied, as Fleet proves that he knows his place in life - a named gumby. That's what he gets for being a repaint! And that is only reason the spilled rebar is forgiven. He returns to helping secure the pipe in place. "Whereas there's only so many of us," Bonecrusher replies, using his integral tig-welder to fix the W-shaped struts' feet onto the ground to stabilize them. "Does this mean that Devastator's hands are better then any other part of his body?" Blight says teasingly as he watches the constructicon and goes to help him pick up the rebar. He looks it over and sniffs it. "This metal would be better snackfood, then building material..." He complains as he puts the pieces into the wheelbarrel, not munching on a single one. Fleet looks up at Blight as his comment. Then he looks over at Bonecrusher and Scrapper. Then he looks back at Blight. Finally he announces, "I'm, uhm, going to be... going to be over here, I think," he says, pointing off to one side. Although he does hand-carry a few rods to Bonecrusher first. Scrapper mutters darkly, "It means that you're Fleet's flunky now, Blight. I'm not sure what a flunky needs his own flunky for, but hopefully Fleet will figure something out." Scrapper likes Bonecrusher too much to burden Bonecrusher with Blight. He stalks off to fetch another section of pipe while Bonecrusher works on the reinforcements. "What?! What did I do wrong?" Fleet exclaims, clearly viewing this as punishment. "Sub-flunky," adds Bonecrusher, arc light stuttering off of his polarized drop-down welding mask. "You can make 'im push your wheelbarrow or something. Don't you know how to delegate?" Blight has disconnected. Scrapper says in a sad tone of voice, "I don't think they teach delegation at flunky school. Hmm. Do they even have flunky school? Maybe they just pick it up on the job." He grabs another section of pipe and walks back to where he and Bonecrusher were working, explaining, "It's nothing personal - I just need someone to make sure the Insecticon doesn't eat anything while Bonecrusher and I do real work." "See, that's what I thought it was, which is why I thought it was punishment," Fleet answers Scrapper. He then shrugs. "I suppose I can make him push the wheel - okay, he's gone." He turns back towards the Constructicons and raises his hands in protest. "He's an Insecticon! They shink! Anyone could have lost him!" Bonecrusher, without looking up from his welding, gives Fleet a thumbs-up. Scrapper calls back to Fleet, "Good work! Now go get some of those sacrificial anodes." Can't have the pipes corroding! He slots the new section of pipe into place, jostling it about for a snug fit. "Sure. Better them than me," Fleet mutters, shrugging and wandering off to hunt annodes. Straightening up, Bonecrusher withdraws his welding mask into his helmet. "There we go. Scrapper, you want I should add a third rail for drill-face monsters or whatever to charge on?" Scrapper sighs and agrees, "Yeah, probably should add a third rail. That, and if we ever get any subway train Decepticons, they'll be able to use it." Alas, subway trains are all Autobots and not in this continuity. And so the work continues. Fleet continues to play fetch. :("Well, I'm gonna need insulators to mount it on, then," replies Bonecrusher, cutting an I-beam into more of a T-shape.