PropertyValue
rdfs:label
  • Fake ID
rdfs:comment
  • Robin Nightingale smiles, apparently pleased she managed to get a reaction from Sam, "I...am the communicator, I said...I...am the communicator, and I go yedee yedee yedee yedee yedee yedee." Robin bobs her head to some unheard beat as she makes her proclamation for Sam's benefit, even though he's not likely to make too much of that. Kyle Rogers says, "I know, Quickswitch-- but I rather be safe then sorry." Sam Waverly offers Robin sort of a pained smile, then he turns to follow Andi. He starts moving his hands, to catch Andi's attention. he adds.
Summary
  • Back at the EDC base, the humanized Autobots are feeling confused. Is everyone who they say they are? Who is that nice Mr Sam Waverly? Perhaps he is Gears...
TP
  • Human Nature
dbkwik:transformers2005/property/wikiPageUsesTemplate
Title
  • Fake ID
who
Year
  • 2029
Location
  • EDC Medbay
abstract
  • Robin Nightingale smiles, apparently pleased she managed to get a reaction from Sam, "I...am the communicator, I said...I...am the communicator, and I go yedee yedee yedee yedee yedee yedee." Robin bobs her head to some unheard beat as she makes her proclamation for Sam's benefit, even though he's not likely to make too much of that. Kyle Rogers says, "I know, Quickswitch-- but I rather be safe then sorry." Sam Waverly moves his head from side to side slowly, examining Robin's face. He raises his hands and looks like he's about to sign some response, but then just shakes his head and turns to Andi, nodding. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance enters the room, now wearing a jumpsuit that has 'MICHAEL BRIAR' emblazoned on the lapel, and five pair of hats balanced on her head. "Hey fellow humans!" she waves, carrying a crate of cans of lager. "I think I've found some human energy cells, we just need to work out how to insert them!" Robin Nightingale cocks her head to the side, wondering why Sam doesn't go ahead and tells her what his function is, than again, it's not very likely he even realized they were actually having a conversation right now. "It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog, where did you go to school? Make me feel alright..." Peace Kepher grins, shrugs, and takes her leave to stand just outside of the examination area. She very quietly requests one of the doctors to quickly rebandage her arm, where she'd gotten stuck with a needle to draw blood, since it seems like her arm getting twisted like that got the 'wound' to start bleeding again as a result. Not that she minds, but she doesn't want Raptor to worry as a result. She also requests a small ice-pack, since her shoulder is also hurting a bit. She glances over at the humanized Raindance as he seems to return from wherever he'd come from and sighs a bit. /Here we go again.../ Andi Lassiter turns to lead the way to the nearest phone....and a very oddly dressed individual appears in the doorway. And almost immediately both guards and a nurse or two converge on Rhiannon, reaching to take away the ill-gotten hats and beer and steer her (him?) toward an exam bed to run the same general health checkup everyone else has just endured. Kyle Rogers once he done outfitted he removes the curtain and pulls one of the gloves tighter, before strapping it down. "Whatcha' think Peace?" He said, at least now not sounding as stern as given some time to calm down. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance starts to struggle as the guards try to take her lager. "No, its my human energon I will die without it!" she shouts, looking at Andi. "Hey hey, humanized Rodimus Prime, help me out here, I think we've got some Decepticons in our midst!" Sam Waverly offers Robin sort of a pained smile, then he turns to follow Andi. He starts moving his hands, to catch Andi's attention. he adds. Blaze Renard raaaaaises an eyebrow. "Raindance...that's not Rodimus..." Robin Nightingale smiles back at Sam, and then moves to follow him, going right along with him and Andi, surely making him very happy to be alive at that very moment. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance looks Andi up and down, and then stares at Blaze. "Are you sure, fake Foxfire? Because you said you were Foxfire, and that's obviously not... HEY!" She flails as a guard manages to take away her lager successfully, managing to grab one can. "Its mine, I found it fair and square with this human armour!" Peace Kepher looks over Kyle's attire and smiles. "It looks very good. Very fitting too," she replies, glad to hear his tone finally calming down. She thanks the nurse who ties down a small ice-pack around her shoulder and shrugs her fatigue-jacket on before sticking the folded beret in a pocket. "Let's see if we can get a room to stay in for the night, or at least find a place that's quiet." Kyle Rogers nods in agreement and stands beside her, gently touching the shoulder he may have cause harm to softly, feeling the cold pack, and removing his fingers from the cold. "..this will take time to get use too..." he murmurs softly to himself. "Obviously not what? True?" Blaze smirks slightly. "I really am Foxfire, Rainy. And I'm sure that's not Rodimus. That's Andi." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance simply stares at Blaze, pushing the can against her forehead. "Sure sure, I don't remember any 'Andi'. Now hush while I recharge myself!" She keeps the can pressed there for a while Andi Lassiter approaches Rhiannon. "Please humor us, we need to make sure that your new form here isn't going to break down on you before we figure out what happened. Just let this doctor run a few diagnostic routines and then you can go rest the way that humans rest." "Look 'Andi' or whoever you are!" Rhiannon half-shouts, pointing at the human with her free hand. "I'm me okay, and I'm fine, and I'm better than fine because I've got legs and arms and a head for once, so I don't want any of your fake medics cutting me up!" Andi Lassiter sighs and glances back at Peace. "Do you think you can talk sense into this one, Peace?" "You're only human," Robin explains to Rhiannon as if that would make any difference, "this is the land of confusion!" She then nods at the rather obvious remark about Rhiannon having two legs, "you've got two legs from your hips to the ground and, when you move they walk around..." Blaze Renard looks to Andi. "Sorry, I tried. Raindance is nuts, human or not." Sam Waverly folds his arms across his chest, watching. Andi Lassiter looks at Sam and Songbird again. "Let's get going. If Raindance won't listen to reason, then she'll just end up occupying the cell in the brig next to ....Runamuck, was it?" Peace Kepher nods faintly. "Isn't that the truth?" She remarks back to Kyle. She huffs softly and walks towards Rhiannon. "Aye, Andi, I can deal with this tape. You go take care of Samuel there before more distractions pop up," she replies with a wave of her good hand. Suddenly Rhiannon leaps over to a bed. "Uh yeah, all good now, go on poke me and prod me with your instruments of death, that threat was too much to beat!" Sam Waverly rolls his eyes, moving over toward the door, attempting to peer back out in the hallway. Robin Nightingale is right at Andi's side, marching like a soldier, and announcing proudly, "we are the Army of Lovers!" Rhiannon Slim-Dhance tilts her head and stares at Robin, as some gumby meds poke her. "Right uh okay. I don't know what that means, but it doesn't sound good. Can I take my energon and go now, I need to work out how it inputs or I'll die!" She holds the can up and shakes it, to make a point "One bourbon, one scotch, one beer?" Robin asks curiously as she sees the can Rhiannon shakes in her hand, "going on a magic carpet ride? If you don't have some whiskey, than you shall die? You better shape up, 'cause I need a man, in my heart is set on you...better shape up, someday you'll sober up!" Peace Kepher sighs as she stands back and watches, letting the others go their own way while she makes sure Rhiannon doesn't try anything again. "I highly doubt you'll /die/," she remarks mildly, glancing over at Foxfire with a curious glint in her eyes. Is Raindance /always/ like this? Oh, that's an idiotic question--it's more like when is he /not/ like this? Rhiannon Slim-Dhance pauses in abject terror as she listens to Robin. "What, I need a whiskey? Where is this whiskey, I don't want to shut down!" She looks at her can. "Is this whiskey? I don't understand, why is no-one else worried about fuel?" Soundwave's last pose: Soundwave looks back into the room, and then quietly steps out into the hall. "Gimme fuel, gimme fire, gimme that which I desire, oh!!!" Robin cries out loudly, starting to thrash about, before straightening her posture and grinning at Rhiannon, "have some more chicken, have some more pie, it doesn't matter if it's cooked or fried, just eat it! Just eat it! Just eat it!" Well, Robin is trying to explain how human fuel works, but it's doubtful Rhiannon will make anything out of it. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance nods slowly. "No no I understand." She holds the can up. "This is chicken pie, and I need to eat it, yeah?" She pauses. "What's eating guys?" She also stares at Robin half sad, obviously this poor wretch had her brain scrambled by the transfer device. It is probably Cosmos or Seaspray or something Robin Nightingale giggles when Rhiannon suggests eating the can, "let's drink, drink, this town is so great. You're looking for...food, glorious food, hot susage and mustard! Food, glorious food, cold jelly and custard!" Robin blinks and looks at Rhiannon hopefully, wondering if she finally realized it's not the can that will give her fuel. Peace Kepher sighs softly as she shakes her head slightly. "Eating is the human act of 'refueling'," she explains patiently, or maybe not-so-patiently. It's getting late, and she's also getting rather tired herself. "I think what Robin is trying to say is that you have to open that can so you can drink the beverage it holds." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance continues to stare at Robin as if she is utterly insane. "Okay, I'm in some sort of madhouse. Obviously you know more than me because you spend all your time watching human things not fighting the Decepticons like me. How DO humans refuel?" She holds up the can. "I know this is fuel but is this an 'eat' or a 'drink' and what IS that anyway" And... FINALLY! Rhiannon nods to Peace Kepher. "Thanks Ultra Magnus, I knew I could count on you!" She starts to smack the can against a bedside table until it explodes in a shower of froth, and holds it up as it goes all over her head some of it going slightly near her mouth. "Whew, my life is saved!" Peace Kepher gets this absolutely puzzled look on her face at being called Ultra Magnus. "I'm not a male, and I'm not nearly that old..." She mutters under her breath. Well, she does have some strands of gray hair, but that's completely different. She sighs and shakes her head. "Just try to get some rest, hm?" Whatever works... Robin Nightingale pouts as Rhiannon dares claim she doesn't fight the Decepticons when she paid once in a rather harsh captivity for her fighting alongside the Autobots, she starts tapping her foot nervously, clenching her hands into fists, but then she just proceeds to storm out of the room angrily, deciding to avoid picking a fight with Rhiannon, as she storms out she snaps, "kill joy! Bad guy! Big talkin'! Small fry! You're just an old barrow boy have you found a new toy to replace me!? Can you face me!? But now you can kiss my aft goodbye!" Yup, Robin's insulted and fuming, but she'll probably calm down given enough time listening to music by her lonesome. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance just calls after Robin "Uh are you going to get me some hot sausage and mustard fuel pods, they sound fun!" Then she's back to sitting on the side of the bed, and staring at the guy who claims he is Foxfire with suspicion. Peace Kepher sees that Rhiannon seems to be behaving herself now, so she decides to leave well enough alone. So, she turns and walks over to the nurse apparently handing out rooming assignments and figures out where she's staying, then makes her way out with the humanized Raptor following. She really needs some sleep... Quickswitch stretches out, experimenting with the range of motion in his human limbs. The movements are as fluid as he can make them, each breath held steady and sculpted to his movement. Blaze Renard is simply reclining. He's laying on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. Powell Glyde has been face down on a bed for the past two hours. Sleep was awesome and he couldn't get enough of it! Sometimes he would see weird things when he slept that were so life-like, but when he tried to reach out and grab them, he would smack his hand against a wall and the images would be gone in a second. Such was the case when he awoke this time. With a groan, a sigh, and even a burp (hey, making noises was awesome, too!) he pulled himself up and immediatly caught sight of the GIRL that was in the room. "Hey, baby." Awesome, as in the sense of taking too much time, perhaps? Kim Mira doesn't really want to sleep. Not here. Someone else is making noise, however, and her attention is pulled back to the inside. Those organic noises. So... crude. She sighs, as she's apparently being addressed. "I am not a baby." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance wanders into the medical facility again, still in the jumpsuit that says 'MICHAEL BRIAR' on it, now clutching a book entitled 'Your Body And You'. She sits down next to Powerglide. "Hey fellow human!" she says, trying to start a conversation. "So... hows your... womb..." Powell Glyde pffts and waves his hand a bit, "Well, obviously not. I meant it as..well, nevermind." He sits up straight and stretches, "I'm going to be really really blunt here, but who are you supposed to be? Don't say Foxfire, or else I'll have to punch you in the head." He turns to Rhiannon, "My womb is just fine, thank you Mr. Briar!" "Oh no I am not Mr Briar, I am Raindance!" says Rhiannon. "I just found all this cloth armour, and since Mr Briar isn't using it anymore, I thought I might as well. Look, I also got this!" From the pocket of the overall, she pulls out a wallet, which has a credit card with "M BRIAR" emblazoned on it. "This is some sort of human magic device I am told" Kim Mira doesn't really want to be punched in the head. Seriously. That would hurt. "No, I'm not Foxfire." she says thoughtfully, as she watches the slightly ... odd conversation that is taking place. Did males even have... Huh. "Nate Briar?" Kim asks thoughtfully. "Or are you someone else?" Powell Glyde points at the credit card, complete with an expression of shock and awe. "Oh! Oh! I've seen those before! You put them through a very primitive looking machine, and paper with dead guys faces on it come out! Like, trading cards or something!" He looks back over at Not-Foxfire, "Damn right you're not! You're too good lookin' to be that jerk. Likewise, I'm WAY too good lookin' to be that Nate guy you were talking about." Kim Mira shakes her head, and laughs. Punk rock chick has a glimmer of who she might be talking to now. And Raindance. Legs unfold as she gets to her feet, taking a few steps towards the two. "Can I see the magic device?" Eyes glint mischeviously. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance nods at Powell, flexing the credit card. "Yeah. Also there is this" she takes out a photo of Zoe Briar from the wallet. "But it is not me, so eh" She tears it up. "There also was bits of paper with dead guys faces on here, I gave them to the guards in exchange for THIS!" She triumphantly holds up can jar of Marmite. "It was only eleven dead guy people sheets!" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD enters, yawning. Unfortunately, she is not a robot now, and thus it is impossible to cheat her way into staving off the recharge cycle for weeks at a time via semi-legal energon-derived stimulants. Thankfully, she has yet to discover the friend to all humans, cocaine. "Nnnnuh. I see we're still humans. Shame." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance waves the magic plastic card in Kim's direction. "Yeah yeah, I'm not letting go of this magic card, you can have this one!" She throws Kim another card from the wallet, this one being a membership card to the adult video club Kim Mira intent on the credit card, doesn't actually look over towards the doctor of the long name, and shrugs. "Could be worse. We could be in space, and human." The card is thrown, and caught between two fingers. "Hey!" Rhiannon Slim-Dhance nods towards Kim. "You can get out educational videos about human AND alien anatomy with THAT card. I found a stack of them in his room when I was exploring. I am sure they are very factual, Mr Briar liked his research." She then waves at Hot Spot. "Hey fellow human, your..." she looks into her book again "...prostate glands not giving you any trouble this morning, I hope!" Powell Glyde begins to chew on his nails, slobbering all over them. "Hey Rain Briar, what's that book about, anyway? You keep looking at it and saying things I don't understand yet." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance looks clever by nodding her head. "It is this book I bought with the magic card. It is all about bodies, it is written by this guy called Oolon Colluphid. He's some sort of octopus fellow with eight arms, which means he's cleverer than most people" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD just kind of stares at Rhiannon, a hallmark of Hot Spot-Raindance interaction. Her accent is posh as crap, making her sound like the sort of snotty rich Englishperson who the EDC regularly executes as a show of power (that is canon now). "I... hope they're not. But then, I was hoping that I'd wake up and find that this was some terrible dream, too, like that time I met Guiltor." The lithe, sleek, absolutely titless female that was once Hot Spot slumps into a chair. "I think I might get another migraine, though. And I keep doing that thing where I shift my throat into reverse, whatever that process is supposed to accomplish." Kim Mira now has a membership card to Xavier Tallin's Adult Emporium. Hooray! "If it were a dream, it would be easy to wake up." Still watching Rhiannon and that magical card out of the corner of her eye. No. She knows not of Guiltor. Thank goodness. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance glares at Hot Spot. "No that was a terrifying visit by Guiltor which shook you to your very core and made you cry, and even I know that despite not being there." She turns back to her book. "Apparently humans get something called menopause. Maybe you are menopause, Defensor" Powell Glyde tears off a hangnail with his teeth and begins to bleed profusely, "Yeah, Defensor. Maybe Rain Briar is right. Maybe you're menopause." He heard the word once and has now considered himself an expert on the subject. "You!" he points a now red finger at the less obnoxious FEMALE, "I still don't know who you are." Kim Mira gives Powerglide a crooked smirk. "So? You have not told me who you are yet?" She's betting on Powerglide, with the attitude. Either that or Slingshot. One fist on hip, other hand flipping the card between her fingers in midair. "So, 'baby', you going to tell me, or do I have to start guessing?" "NonononoNONONO!" cries Rhiannon, looking up from her book. "He's not a baby, babies are protoform humans. Apparently some humans have CREATION FACTORIES inside them, you can tell which these special humans are by the presence of etheric beam locators on their chests." She points at herself. "See I am special and like, a walking Vector Sigma. Hot Spot here doesn't have etheric beam locators, so he is just like, a human drone" Powell Glyde seems a little insulted hat the woman couldn't identify him by his stunning good looks and amazing personality, "Apparently having etheric beam locators lowers your intelligence, because you can't tell who I am. I'm Powerglide, sheesh! Also, you better not be Slingshot, or else I'll punch you in the nose." Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD sighs, reaching for a cup of coffee that just happens to be there. "Menopause? Well, I suppose that sounds as likely as anything." She takes a sip, and promptly spits it out, all over Rhiannon. "Ugh that is /AWFUL/" she whines. "Where is an energon cube? I crave energon's bitter taste... some would say /too/ bitter, but I would say /not enough/." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance covers herself as she is drenched in coffee and spit. "Cut it out Defensor, look, here is some human energon capsules I liberated." She scoots out a slab of lager cans from beneath the medical cabinet. "You activate them by smashing them against a table until they explode, and then you draw in the fuel" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD points. "I recognize those. Those are the brand we use to get the UN inspector drunk so that he ignores all of Autobot City's massive security deficiencies." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance clenches a fist. "The UN! They make me almost as angry as Norway from the time that their Monarchy tried to remake Europe in their own image and had to be assassinated!" She starts to smash a can against a table until it explodes in a fountain of fizz (in the direction of Hot Spot and Powell) and then starts to pour the remaining liquid into her mouth "Thought so." Kim Mira is torn betwen the desire to punch Powerglide in the face, or just let him off the hook with a slap. "You know, not recognizing your friend is not a good sign, Powerglide. A very bad sign. Why, I might just have to..." something of a sniffle comes from Kim Mira as the tears start to fall. "You don't even recognize me." Hot Spot is wearing white, so the lager splashed all over her proves to be indecent, although this is not immediately realized by the woman who is typically a baby blue fire truck made of metal and friendship with children worldwide. She refrains from indulging in a drink herself, though. "The UN are pretty terrible, but until we pay off the lease on Autobot City, we're stuck with them. It was, looking back, a mistake to encourage Rodimus to sign those papers making us legally indentured servants of them -- but then, I think that was Faketimus Prime and his Matrix of Fear, anyway, but the UN are too awful to not do the proper thing and void the contract." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance pours out the last of the can, and crumpling it, throws the empty container at Powerglide's head. "Powerglide, you are the WORST for not recognising Hound!" she shouts, looking at Kim. "I mean who else could it be, sitting there looking all wimpy and useless. Hi Hound!" Powell Glyde usually laughs when he sees a girl crying, but for some reason, being in a human body makes watching a girl cry very uncomfortable. "Hey, hey, don't do that. It makes me feel like it's my fault or something," he frowns, mostly due to being showered in booze and not from feeling bad. "Oh. Maybe you're right, Rain Briar." Sam Waverly sits silently in a corner, possibly thinking all of these people are very, very strange. Or plotting and scheming, it's impossible to tell. Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD sighs, taking out the picture of the Turkish Sultan again and eyeing it. "I feel like I want to shoot this person, whoever it is," she notes. "Is that normal brain chemistry for humans to want to murder? I mean, it'd explain so much." Kim Mira could show Rhiannon how useless she was... but doing that would get her very hurt, very fast. Or locked up. "But it is your fault. How could you not recognize Moonracer?" Now. Where's that door? Is Raindance in the way? "I-I'm going to go get some fresh air." Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD looks over at Kim. "Moonracer was with us last night," she notes. "You do not look like Moonracer." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance holds up a picture she has in her hand. "I dunno. I mean I've got this picture of a guy called Tsar Nicholas II, but I just have this feeling that I want to cover myself with jam and roll about with him. Cursed human brain chemistry, what does it mean?" Her eyes snap around to Kim. "Whoa whoa whoa wait a minute. You're not Moonracer, I was talking to her earlier" Sam Waverly moves his hands, but unless anyone understands sign language, it looks like he's having a small seizure. Kim Mira pauses. Hm. Maybe she should have stuck with being Hound? "There's a fake around, then? I'll have to find her, and 'talk' to her." Powell Glyde ignores Sam because watching retards go into spasms is shunned upon, "Moonracer was with us last night? I didn't notice." He runs over to where 'Moonracer' is, "Woah! Don't shoot her! What're ya', crazy!? Maybe that other Moonracer was a fake! C'mon, you know how things are!" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD looks at Powerglide. "I'm not going to shoot her, I just--" the gun goes off, shattering a portrait of Michael Briar drinking tequila at his desk, exposing the portrait of Chikome-Ollin beneath. "Oh, whoops." Sam Waverly blinks at the small explosion, then frowns, gets up and walks over to former-HS and holds his hand out, looking like he's demanding the gun. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance stares at the portrain of Chikome-Ollin and places a hand on her stomach. "You know, at some strange base level, I feel this sense of relief that Mr Ollin has gone back to his own dimension or died or whatever" Kim Mira continues to sniffle, giving a little shriek as the gun goes off. "I'm the real one, come on-- you got taken in by a fake again." And then Powerglide comes to her rescue. "At least you believe in me, Powerglide-- I can still rely on you, after all these years." Rhiannon Slim-Dhance strokes her chin. "Since when could Moonracer ever rely on Powerglide..." Powell Glyde just gawks at Hot Spot, "You know what, Defensor? I don't really feel like having you kill the only person who's ever been interested in me." He reaches over and grabs Kim's wrist to pull her closer to him, "Look Rain Briar, just shut it okay!? I might have a chance here!" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD squints at Sam. "No, Gears, you're too irascible to hold a weapon, plus you're dying, as we just saw. This gun was hidden in /my/ body's wet, tight Matrix Storage Compartment and so it's /mine/." Turning back to Kim, there is another squint, a more suspicious one. Unfortunately, because she looks like Keira Knightley, she really only has the one expression. "If you were really Moonracer, you would have somehow taken an opportunity to ruin my self-esteem and drive me back to drinking, forcing the rest of the Protectobots to send me to rehab on Webworld again. You obviously have no idea how to pretend to be Moonracer." "Its not true Powerglide!" shouts Rhiannon, pointing at Sam. "Look what me and Gears are saying. She's using you, she only wants you for your..." she brings up the book again. "...lower intestines" Sam Waverly moves his hands again, but likely no one understands. He walks over to find the notepad and pencil he was using earlier, and scribbles down a note: -Would someone here please show me the way out?- He starts showing it to anyone that will look for more than two seconds. Kim Mira gives Rhiannon a slightly nasty look, and allows the human that would be Powerglide pull her close. At least she knows some vulnerabilities. "Well, why don't you go drink something? It might clear your mind, so that you can see the truth. I am Moonracer-- and you... are a fraud of a medic." A big teary smile for Powerglide. "I know we can be together now. Just like we were so long ago." Lower intestines... right. Powell Glyde waves a hand at Sam without looking at him, "Yeah, yeah, whatever, man." He then turns all his attention on Hot Spot and Raindance, "You guys are such jerks. Why are you trying to stop me from gettin' some lovin' for the first time in forever? Geez, some friends you guys turned out to be." He look at Kim and just gives a dopey grin, "Hehehehh" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD hmms. "The real Moonracer, as all of us here know, is a gigantic whore, as exemplified by every interaction she's had with anyone in roughly the past year. So if you're really Moonracer, you should be acting even more whorish than Powerglide. I'm not seeing it." "Also" Rhiannon ponders, leaping up to sit on a nearby table, which promptly collapsed. "No-one ARGH - likes Powerglide, apart from that society heiress who he kept hitting until her family sued him because she was gone in the head or something." Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD nods. "It's true. I'm sorry you had to hear it, Powerglide, but no one does like you." Sam Waverly rolls his eyes, still trying to find someone to read his note. Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD glances sidelong. "/What/, Gears. The bathroom is /over there/. Please stop hitting me in the face with that paper." Insult! Wait. She's heard that one before, though the memories Kim Mira is relying on are old, and incomplete. And so faded. "You're not Firestar, so you can't say stuff like that." Just because Firestar jokingly called her the faction bicycle once is no reason to let someone else say mean things. "And that human was just a fling. Wasn't she, Glidey?" Way out? She might like to find one herself. Probably could too-- if she wasn't preoccupied. "Yeah we only pretend to whenever we want something." She walks over to Sam and snatches the note from his hands. "You want what? Sorry Gears I don't read human, I am not sad and tragic like you." She rips up the paper and throws it over the poor man. "Perhaps try to be less minibot like. At least Powerglide in his own poor deluded way is... OH PRIMUS IF GEARS IS HUMANISED DOES THIS MEAN HE DOESN'T HAVE HIS HAPPINESS SUPPRESSION CIRCUIT?" Sam Waverly fights down the urge to throw Hot Spot out the window. Making his presence known to the 'humans' in the medbay is none other than Jetfire. and yes, he hears all this squabbling. "Knock it off." Powell Glyde begins to grit his teeth at all these heart-crushing comments. "Okay, you know what? I'm outta here. Ya'll can suck it, whatever 'it' is. And yes, that human girl meant nothing to me, other than something soft to hit." He begins to look around for an exit, "I've never even frikkin' been here before.." Sam Waverly blinks as the note disappears. Then when Jetfire walks in he points, makes a noise like, "NNNnh!" and goes and hides behind a medical table. Kim Mira gives Powerglide that look. Yes. /That/ look. "I would like to get out of this place too." She almost coos. "You want to go for a walk out in the fresh air with me?" Too many Autobots inside here right now. Rhiannon Slim-Dhance starts to follow Sam around the side of the table. "Look Gears, you have to learn to be a well adjusted human like me. I know you are an inferior model with no etheric beam locators or-" she looks in her book again "-an appendix, but still you can do it man, you can do it!" She moves to pat the hapless figure on his shoulder Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD sighs. "Your willingness, even eagerness, to punch women is /why/ no one likes you, Powerglide. Do you think we would forget about the time you broke Chromia's mouth in half?" Jetfire sighs quietly and seems to have a datapad in his hand. "No one's leaving quite yet. I'm going to have to be an annoyance to you all for a while longer. Especially you two." he says pointing to Powell and Kim. "Back onto your tables for a few minutes please." Powell Glyde gives that dopey 'hurf de durf' look at Kim again, "Heheh, y-yeah! I have no idea where I'm going though, so-I mean, I'm a genius and automatically know where everything is. Let's go." He completely ignores Hot Spot, because what he said brings up terrible memories from when Ironhide beat the shit out of him for that incident. Chromia just got in the way, okay!? "What the hell, Jets? Just because you're 50 times my size doesn't mean you can keep me here like your little bitch." Sam Waverly shies away from the pat, peering out at the super-giant robot thing. "Yeah Powerglide, I mean we ALL want to punch Chromia's mouth in half, but its all about restraint, you know. And not showing off that you have arms and can punch people." She walks towards Jetfire. "Hey Skyfire, Gears here seems pretty out of it too, perhaps Minibots react badly to the process, you should have him cut up too" Jetfire looks over towards Powell. "all right then. If you don't want your body back...I'll ask Rodimus to melt it down and provide parts for NEW Autobots. That is, if you're so willing to remain in your terran form." Kim Mira frowns. "Why not?" She asks Jetfire. "I submitted to your physicals, and all the questions-- why can't I go outside, at least? This place is just so ... cooped up." Hm. This could be interesting. Powell Glyde growls at Jetfire, "Hey, you guys don't even know where our bodies are! In fact, isn't that what you should be doin' instead of playing baby-sitter? You know, FINDING OUR BODIES!?" Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD sighs, having put the gun back while no one was looking. "Jetfire, can you at least find something that we can consume for fuel? I tried this... brown... syrup-water, whatever it is," she points at the coffee machine, "but it doesn't compare to the bitter, bitter taste of energon." Powell Glyde tries his best not to catch a case of BROOKLYN RAGE, "WHAT!? Who gave you the power to make definite decisions like that!? You're a magnificent bastard, Jerkfire! Watch how I show how little I respect you by walking out!" He tightens his grip on Kim, "Let's get the hell outta here." Sky Lynx F. McKeacepeeker, Esq., PhD notes helpfully, "That's Gears." Kim Mira frowns. "Why not?" She asks Jetfire. "I submitted to your physicals, and all the questions-- why can't I go outside, at least? This place is just so ... cooped up." Hm. This could be interesting. Kim Mira frowns. Does she want her body back? Perhaps. Not. "Yeah. Let's go." Tight grip on her arm. Good. He's all tweaked off-- getting away from these folks is almost assured now. "I would try to stop him" states Rhiannon. "But I'm too busy being important and doing important stuff." This important stuff is apparently touching every single surface in wonderment. "See you don't know how lucky you are to have arms, I hope yours all drop off"