| abstract | - Synopsis: Shawn Berger hosts a reality TV show, where the Transformers must compete against one another in order to win a prize! Darkwing has arrived. Shawn Berger, clad in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts, stands on the deck of a ship overlooking a tropical island. "Tonight, on Survivor: Transformers, several contestants will split up into tribes and compete against their peers for an incredible prize!" The studio crew switches to a shot of an absurd amount of energon, stashed away somewhere. "A million astroliters of energon! Whichever tribe wins, gets the energon. But not everyone in their respective tribes may make it to the end. Their teammates may vote them off if they haven't performed up to their standards. Who will hold until the end? Which tribe will get the energon? Find out tonight... on SURVIVOR!" (Cue dramatic opening sequence, featuring overhead shots of the island and close-ups of the contestants.) Sideswipe is seen.. and that should be enough, surely the ratings of the show will skyrocket simply by having Sideswipe there. He smiles winningly at the camera, nodding confidently, shooting a thumbs up to the camera. Cosmos changes from a round vehicle into a round robot. The camera zooms to a close up of Wheelie, a brown burlap sack is hung on his head and he's got a wooden pike with some crabs skewered on them. The orange boy bot shoots a cheesy smile and a thumbs up. "Wheelie the best survivor found, better than these bums laying around!" One of the crabs on the pike isn't quite dead, clamping it's claw down on Wheelie's nose. "OWOWOWOWOW!" Cosmos waves enthusiastically. He has to work extra hard at gesticulating because his face is no help at all when it comes to expressing emotions. Galvatron currently prays for a time machine. He would use this time machine to go back in time and shoot Shawn Berger for talking him into this, and then shoot his own past self for being talked into it. This would, of course, create a time paradox, killing his past self. Galvatron ruminates on this as he stands distinctly separate from the crowd, a sullen, sour expression on his face. Crosscheck stands in front of the camera, looking unsure of what he is doing here. He finally looks at the camera and says, "I'm Crosscheck... autobot scientist." Yeah...short and sweet. Crosscheck is not a mech of many words. As the holographic projection for Fusillade's promo shots light up the sunset-soaked clouds, an oversized lawndart appears on the horizon. A coy flash of fangs masked behind the pleats of one wingblade zooms out and away as she pulls her bombardier goggles up and tosses her helm in a spirited, carefree fashion. The image transitions to her twisting around in an dervish of blades as she services a hibachi grill, complete with a crooned out "Faaaaabulouds!" That aerial silhouette enlarges, until the Decepticon herself makes a personal appearance during the introduction! Swooshing over the mercury seas, Fusillade hauls two jabbering seamen behind her. Their bassy voices ring out fierce 'aaaaaaaaaars!' across the waves as they shake their free hook hands in the air, their good fists wrapped around cables that lead up to large harpoons piercing the trailing edges of her wings. "Ahhhh gettem offa meeeeeeeee!" As each contestant gets his close-up, their names appear in red (for Autobots) and purple (for Decepticons) at the bottom of the screen. Once the intro finishes up, Berger is standing on the desert island. The two sides are lined up on opposing sides, with a crudely made "Decepticon Tribe" sign near the Decepticons, and a similar sign near the Autobots. Berger says, "Welcome to Survivor Island, contestants! Before we begin, why don't we hear a little bit about yourself, and your hopes and your dreams. Also, what do you plan to do if you win the energon prize?" Crosscheck ponders his response for a moment, "Like I said I'm a scientist. I repair my fellow autobots when they need it and work on various techological research. I hope to win the energon because I sure don't want him..." he points at Galvatron, "...to get it. Hopefully I'll be able to use it to re-energize my home planet." Galvatron growls at Crosscheck's gesture. The camera wanders to him, and he simply stares, not saying a single word, arms crossed, displaying the obstinance of a two-year-old. Wheelie is standing in the middle of the pack, he's outfitted in his orange adidas jump suit; his arms crossed and a pair of shades over his optics... ... "The name is Wheelie, the Autobot Survivalist I be!" His arms uncross and he approaches the camera, gettin' all up in it's 'grill'. "If I win the stash..." he motions behind him towards Shawn Berget, "I'll use the cash ... for my dream..." He then motions towards Galvatron. "...rebuilding Starscream to annoy Galvatron, that'd be the bomb!" "I'm a bit of a career soldier." interjects Sideswipe, a simple hand wave serving to gasticulate for now, "I generaly make my living by punching problems, shooting problems, or through a carefuly calculated mixture of punching /and/ shooting my problems!" the camera cuts to the Decepticon camp, the words 'problem' appearing in purple over their collective heads, arrows pointing down. "If I get the prize I intend to.. um.. reenergize my home world.. yeah-" the scene shifts, Sideswipe is in a booth, his optics shift left and right befor slowly he lifts a picture of a lamborghini reventon up for display. Smiling, Sideswipe points to the picture and then himself several times befor winking conspirtously to the camera. Back at the introductions, "Yeah.. my planet.." The lines eventually strain and snap as Fusillade transforms. Whipping out her sidearm, she begins shooting at the Pequod whalers, the weapon sending the acrid smell of ozone through the village as the bolts hit the mercury foam. "Orca my aft!!! Why don't you just call me fat while you're at it?!" Fusillade waves her disruptor in the air after a few security mechs wrestle her down and corral her to the Decepticon camp. Batting saffron optics in an affected display of innocence, she says in her best impression of the infamous New York, "HIIII, my name is Fusillade. I like to EMP irradiate insurgent villages and etch metal! What do I hope for? Mmm, I hope to be able to be the velvet glove over the iron hand of the Empire. A few Sukhois would be nice and I hope that you giuys like me too and let me get to show off just what I can do to win you over in this lil' contest. My dreams usually involve grocery store items," she deadpans. "As for what I would do with that million cubes of energon, oh don't you worry honey I would be able to end this WAR with that kinda sum, you better believe it." She doesn't elaborate how, but does give an emphatic nod to let the viewers at home know that she's got it all under control. "Well," begins Cosmos, who is a little shy in front of the camera, "I'm Cosmos, and I'm a spaceman. I relay long-range radio messages to and from Earth for people who can't do that on their own, and I investigate things in space, and help build things in space, and that sort of thing! My hobbies are hovering, gross livestock anatomy, playing the theremin, stopping car engines, and abductions." He gives a pair of thumbs-up and then hastily adds, "fun abductions! Just for fun." Cosmos adds, "If I won the energon I would donate it to a good cause, like orphans who need fuel, because I run on Elerium-116." Darkwinglooks to the lil fat man and says nothing Berger scowls at the Autobots. "The Decepticons' stories were MUCH more interesting," he says, even though Fusillade was the only Decepticon to say anything. "Anyway! Our first competition is as follows. You're the survivors of a shuttle accident, and you need fire to get you through the night! But there's just one catch, your weapons, thrusters, and various other technical gadgets that could be used to create fire were damaged in the crash! You'll need another means of making fire, or else you will freeze to death at night!" He gestures to a pile of sticks on the ground. "Instead, you must use those sticks to create your fire, the HARD way! Tribes, are you ready?" He doesn't really wait for confirmation. "GO! Make your fire before the other tribe does!" Now that's an easy talk for Crosscheck. He turns towards the other Autobots, "This shouldn't be a problem. All we need is a lense or two. I'll adjust them to concentrate the sun rays and we should be able to set some dry wood on fire." He looks at the others, "What do you think, we can make those with simple glass..." After a quick radio communication to Galvatron, Fusillade's face breaks into a gleefully malevolent grin. Like a great white shark after a seal, she breaks into a jog, before leaping at Cosmos! Will she be able to latch onto him? If so, she fully plans to haul him back to Decepticon base camp for a rather nefarious purpose! Fusillade succeeds in grasping Cosmos, throwing it off-balance. Space-Going B-1R Lancer chirps out, "C'mere you!" The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. Fusillade chirps out, "C'mere you!" Galvatron surreptitiously touches a finger to his helmet and glances around, as if listening to something. To any Transformer-savvy individual it's clear he's doing some radio talkin'. He then, without another word, marches toward a selection of boulders, stroking his chin as he carefully considers them. What malevolent plan could be working through Galvatron's mind?! And why does he keep looking over at Fusillade grabbing Cosmos?! And why is he hefting that roughly Cosmos-sized rock?! Wheelie runs around frantically, collecting some tinder from the grass that is available on the island. "Wheelie get burny grasses, you three worry about the glasses!" Before his optics, Fusillade is pouncing Cosmos. "Hey you dip, get your own space-ship!" he muses, trying to seperate her from him. Wheelie misses Fusillade with its grasp attack. Cosmos flails his little arms and legs as he gets botnapped! "The irony in my being suddenly abducted like this isn't helping!" he exclaims by way of calling for help. Fusillade eeeeks as the nemesis of Future Rick Flair lunges at her, and she CLUTCHES Cosmos to her chest tightly. "MINE!" Nimbly kicking off the edge of the tidepool, she gallops back to Decepticon camp with a 'whoop!!!' holding Cosmos over her head. "OH, that's a NICE one, Galvatron!" she proclaims as she then swings her arms down hard to whack the edge of Cosmos's hull against the boulder. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!! "Darkwing! Get the sticks! Get ready to catch those sparks!" WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Her servos are a bit... lacking though, and the end effect is a sullen occasional smoulder where the granite leaves scrapes against the Mini-Bot's dark green belly. "Hmm. This doesn't seem to be working," Galvatron says. "You hold the fat little Autoblob still, and I'll try scraping him with the boulder." WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Sideswipe turned his gaze to Crosscheck,, a ridge lofted. Lenses.. the only lense that Sideswipe had that could do the job was currently located in his pretty, blue optics. "Okay... so all we need to do is melt some of this sand, refine it into a lense.. but for that we'll need fire.." he says displaying the circuler problem. Parting from the group, Sideswipe goes to their pile of sticks. Hunting through them he selects three, two thick, stout limbs and one slightly smaller discarded branch. He crushes the branch in his hands, snaping and crushing it, wood splintering and cracking. He gathers these splinters into a pile and then plants the butt of one of the limbs into it. What comes next is the expected course. Placing one limb against the other, Sideswipe begins to pump one arm, quickly rubbing one limb against the other at a pace of five strokes a second, hoping to birth a spark into the bed of kindling below. Fusillade crumples a bit under the force of Galvatron's vigorous strokes. Shawn Berger takes out a cigar and smokes it casually, puffing out some smoke as he watches the ongoing fracas. Is it against the rules for the contestants to attack each other? Probably. Is Shawn going to do anything about it? Nope. Darkwinga smirk forms watching fusillade as he grabs a pile of sticks and flamable whatnots and trots to where Galvatron and Fusillade are putting them on the ground to catch the sparks Wheelie jogs up to the Autobot's fire and drops off the brushweeds for some tinder. Shawn Berger checks his Tech against 75: Failure :(Fusillade checks her Tech against 75: Failure :(Galvatron checks his Tech against 75: Success! Wheelie checks its Tech against 75: Failure :(Sideswipe checks his Tech against 75: Success! Crosscheck checks his Tech against 75: Success! Darkwing checks its Tech against 75: Success! "Ouch, help!" exclaims Cosmos. He makes an excellent firestarter (twisted firestarter)! Both the Autobots and Decepticons manage to get their sticks to smouldering. A little bit of grey smoke rises up from the sticks. "Almost there, contestants!" Berger says, smiling. "Both sides have the beginnings of a fire, but let's see if they can start something REALLY hot. The cold freezing nights are going to take more than a little smoke to get through!" Wheelie is still running around frantically... ...only this time it has no real purpose. Just panic. Grabbing a couple of stones, the orange boy bot crouches beside the fire, trying to get them sparking. He tosses/throws a rock at Crosscheck, "Hey you insolent welp, we need some HELP!" Crosscheck can't let the Decepticon kidnap Cosmos like that...but it's Galvatron over there. The getting an idea, the scientist sprints towards the other "tribe". He suddenly breaks near the spot where Decepticons are trying to make fire, accidently throwing some sand on him. He tries to grabs Cosmos's arm before printing back towards the Autobots...just in time to be hit right on the shoulder by Wheelie. To rock makes a dent into his armor and some oil starts to leak on the fire. Crosscheck misses Cosmos with his grasp attack. "Hmm," Galvatron says. "Let's see if I can break him open and get him to leak some fuel onto the sticks -- then we'll throw some more sparks down." He then takes the rock and, lifting it above his head, /rams/ it into Cosmos' belly as hard as he possibly can. He is Galvatron. This is very hard. Sideswipe gives birth to light, motes of light dropping down into the bed of kindling. There is sounds of metal against stone from the decepticon camp. a chanced look reveals the source, "Clever clankers.." he growls. Both sticks were almost warn through by now. A glance showed a large enough chunk of stone dropped by wheelie nearby.. He should have through about that first! Dropping the worn sticks into the the pile. Bracing the stone against a knuckle, Sideswipe begins to grind once more, teeth gritting as he scraps away layers of metal from his black fist.. taking one for the team. Sideswipe checks his Tech against 75: Success! Galvatron checks his Tech against 75: Failure :(Crosscheck checks his Tech against 75: Failure :(Darkwing checks its Tech against 75: Failure :(Wheelie checks its Tech against 75: Failure :(There's an impatient growl from Fusillade as she starts getting into the competitive spirit of things. "This little guy is TOUGH! I bet he was made to withstand impacts with asteroids! Big ones!!!!" She gesticulates to the air, before digging in claws to find a better spot to let loose some fluid from the hapless Autobot. "Ooops, sorry!" Fusillade checks her Tech against 75: Success! "Ow, help!" exclaims Cosmos. This is enough for him! He tries to zap Galvatron with his little arm guns and wriggle away. Cosmos misses Galvatron with its grasp attack. Galvaton, by sheer luck, ends up holding the rock in the path of the blasts. "Eh?" "They're hitting me with rocks!" complains Cosmos. "I thought we weren't supposed to be fighting!" Galvatron growls. "We're /cooperating/!" he barks. "This -- is -- a -- TRUCE!" He then rips the boulder in half in sheer rage. Shawn Berger applauds. "Alright, we have a fire, and..." He frowns. "Damn, both of the fires were started at the same time, and are at equal height with one another. It seems we have a tie for this event." Berger is clearly disappointed at that. He looks up at Galvatron and says, "Oh, yes, right. I *respectfully request* that you release the Autobot, Mr. Galvatron, sir. After all, we have more events coming up and he would just slow you down anyway." Clearing his throat, Berger announces, "Now that you have a fire, you need to construct a shelter, using only the natural materials found on this island. No ranged weaponry or flight is allowed for this event. Tribes, are you ready? GO!" Cosmos staggers back dizzily towards the Autobot lines, looking rather dented. "Spawnova.." mutters Sideswipe, these stipulations were getting on his circuits, "They may have us on this one." he spoke loud enough to make his voice carry to the other camp, "All they need is Fusillade's aft. You could hide a antire platoon under there!" "Spawnova.." mutters Sideswipe, these stipulations were getting on his circuits, "They may have us on this one." he spoke loud enough to make his voice carry to the other camp, "All they need is Fusillade's aft. You could hide a antire platoon under there!" he called befor making a run for the treeline.. He thought to follow wheelie, their survivalist being their ace in the hole.. of course, keeping his own optics open wouldn't hurt. Sideswipe checks his Intelligence against 80: Failure :(Wheelie is running through the forest, ripping up random plants and roots and vines; throwing them back behind him in no order... ...how they'll assemble them together.. ...finding them no less, is beyond his attention at the time. "Follow me, oh you'll see!" Wheelie checks its Intelligence against 75: Success! Crosscheck quickly enumerate a list of materials, "Ok, we will need, woods, lot of it and roots to tie the trunks together." He quickly gets down on the ground and starts to draw a basic plan for a survival shelter...yeah he's better at theory than practice. Darkwing has left. Crosscheck checks his Intelligence against 80: Failure :(Galvatron casts the boulder pieces aside and looks around. "As if any mere /weather/ is capable of defeating the mighty Decepticons," the tyrant harrumphs. He stalks toward some trees and, rearing back, attempts to kick them so hard they break. "This is beneath me. Berger will pay." Wheelie checks its Intelligence against 80: Failure :(Galvatron checks his Intelligence against 80: Success! Cosmos checks its Intelligence against 75: Success! Cosmos is smart! Cosmos checks its Intelligence against 80: Success! Cosmos is even smarter! Cosmos comes back out of the jungle (after recovering from the boulder-hitting episode) with armfuls of giant palm fronds and useful tree limbs and tie-able vines and such. "I heard that!!!" Fusillade barks after Sideswipe, before bolting off into the jungle. "Hrn! There's no corrugated tin roofing here anywhere, we're too BIG for normal vines to work... rrrrgh!!" Despite that, she begins to diligently gather materials, before she glances up at the sweeping palm fronds overhead. Hmmm!! She shimmies her rear, before jumping up to hook hands on the top of the tree, using her weight to pull it toward the ground, chattering like a veritable monkey on a playground. "Hey if we can tie this down it'll make a GREAT backbone for a shelter!! Fusillade checks her Intelligence against 80: Failure :(Galvatron succeeds in grasping Cosmos, throwing it off-balance. Galvatron glances at the tree. "Indeed." He then strides over and grabs some vines from right out of Cosmos' arms. "Your contribution is noted, Autobot scum." Shawn Berger would likely pee himself if he heard Galvatron say that. But fortunately for him, he did not. Anyway, as it turns out, for whatever reason, only Galvatron and Cosmos managed to find useful materials. "Now that you have your materials, you will have to transport and assemble them. This will likely require a great deal of physical strength!" Berger says. "My vines!" protests Cosmos. "Sideswipe, Galvatron is cheating!" Crosscheck curses as he sees what Galvatron just did. He is not used to work without the proper tools but... suddenly, he transforms into his repair station mode. Now having 6 arms, each of them equipped with different tools, the engineer thats to assemble what may look like a shelter and giving instruction to the others at the same time. Crosscheck falls fowards and transforms into a repair station. Crosscheck checks his Strength against 60: Failure :(Wheelie starts to jog back towards their 'camp'... ...or wherever Crosscheck has decided to set up one. "I got the vine, am I in time?" Wheelie checks its Strength against 60: Failure :(Galvatron begins tying things together into a rudimentary if still workable structure. "This is what I'm supposed to have /Constructicons/ for," he grouses joylessly. Galvatron checks his Strength against 60: Success! The tree's resilient trunk gives a groan and creak, hauling Fusillade back up into the air. She kicks feet, and then wildly waves a hand in the air downward at Galvatron. "Good thing there's no scheduled Olympic events tonight, this might take a while!" she says too cheerfully. Cosmos checks its Strength against 60: Failure :(Fusillade checks her Strength against 60: Success! Cosmos is no help when it comes to putting the lean-to together, however. Cosmos can't even tie a good knot. Sideswipe is hot on wheelie's heels, he's currently carrying a clump of dirt, a space-coconut, a space-squirrel, and various other useless things.. these are all dumped as soon as he makes it to camp.. and sees some more useful supplies, "Oh, yeah, shelter." he utters having forgotten what he'd gone in for. He quickly gets to work.. the jock of the group. Sideswipe checks his Strength against 60: Success! Shawn Berger looks over at the Decepticon shelter, and notes, "The Decepticon structure is coming along quite a bit more nicely! The Autobots, of *course,* are struggling with their shelter, in the meantime. But it's not enough to just slap it together! Now you have to test it to make sure it'll hold up to hurricane force winds!" As if on cue, some ships drive up to near the shore and begin to blast at the makeshift structures with absurdly large fans. "Can the tribes' homes hold it together?" Cosmos checks its Tech against 70: Failure :(Cosmos holds his hands over his head as the lean-to starts falling down around him. "It's all gone pear-shaped!" he shouts over the noise of the sudden artificial wind. Now this doesn't look good at all... Crosscheck stares at the giant fans... well as much as a repair station can stare. Of course their shelter is pretty well built but those are BIG fans... discreetly, he uses his arms to hold on the weakest points. Crosscheck checks his Tech against 70: Failure :(Wheelie rushes around once again, trying to notch vines to leaves and other items and string it all together to resemble some sort of shelter. Then the winds kick in, the mini-bot does his best to hold it together. Sideswipe does what he can to attempt to solidify the structure, pushing sand around the base befor compacting it, "Slaggin' rediculous.." he mutters, "Keep your heads on and keep it up!" Wheelie checks its Tech against 70: Failure :(Sideswipe checks his Tech against 70: Failure :(No flying. No weapons. As the fan ships hover in and blast the island with merciless billows, Fusillade hisses vengefully. A few coconuts fly past and bonk her on the cranium. She bats them away with her hands, even as she tries to brace her palms against the struts of the shelter. Fusillade checks her Tech against 70: Success! Wheelie drops Nepsan Crown Jewels. Wheelie takes Nepsan Crown Jewels. Wheelie drops Nuke List. Wheelie takes Nuke List. The Decepticon shelter manages to stay together for the most part, but the Autobot shelter quickly begins to give way the winds, piece by piece. Berger gestures at the ships, and they cut the fans. "It looks like the Decepticons won that round!" Berger says, looking more than a tad smug about it. "And now, we have to have a vote! I'm going to flip a coin to determine which team must remove a contestant from their ranks. Yes, I know, it's not standard Survivor rules. The Olympic Council wanted it to be random for some reason." He flips a coin, then scowls at the result. "Hrmph, the Decepticon team must remove a member from their ranks. Alright, place the name of the loser on the card we are giving you now." "Darkwing," Galvatron immediately barks, not even bothering to write down a name on the card. "I want Darkwing gone /immediately/." Fusillade takes up a card, and appears to be in the middle of writing something, before glancing up quickly at Galvatron and scribbling out her response. Sideswipe sits in the rubble of the fallen shelter, "Yeah.. right when you need a grapple.." he mutters dejectedly. Wheelie is laying on the ground, he's caught a scorpion and a toad... ...constructing a little ring out of twigs and rocks. He's placed them both inside, and starts poking them with a stick. "Don't be so naive!" he barks out at the toad, "Two beast enter, one beast LEAVE!" Cosmos is covered in palm fronds. "Or even Pipes!" Sideswipe says, "Ole Wheeljack would have found a way to make a tree explode by now." "Pipes," Galvatron growls. "The robot who destroyed the deathscythe I gave Scourge as a token of /respect/ and figurative /brotherhood/. He would /pay dearly/ if he showed his face or lack of hands here." Sideswipe says, "Blow it out your creamcicle~!" Berger takes the cards from the Decepticons, holds them up awkwardly--they're huge compared to him--then nods. "Yep, alright then, Darkwing is voted off the island!" The poor Decepticon is escorted away by hovering drones, where he is eventually led to a studio so that he can be interviewed about his crushed hopes and dreams. "The next event is: Hunting!" Berger announces. "Your tribe needs food to survive, but only one of you will catch the great, fuel-rich mecha-ox of this island!" A mecha-ox rushes out of the clearing, mooing loudly before it dives back into the foliage. "Tribes, catch that ox! Are you ready? GO!" Clearly bored, Wheelie tosses in a crab and a grasshopper he's managed to round up. He's stood up now, hooting and hollering. "Now we have a brawl, it's a Free For ALL!" Shawn Berger notes, before everyone rushes off, "Again, for this event there will be no ranged weapons, aside from thrown objects, or projectiles launched from bows made from materials found in the jungle! And no flying, either!" Wheelie stares down the ox, he's obviously put his 'hunter hat' on. The beast stomps left, the boy bot steps left. The beast roars right, the survivalist creeps right. Out of nowhere he lunges with a small widdled pike... ...towards the ox. "You'll make a fine feast, you big stoopid beast!" Cosmos checks its Speed against 65: Success! Wheelie checks its Speed against 65: Success! Repair Station just sits on the ground shaking his head. He is not too proud of himself at the moment, he should be performing better than than but at least one of those creepy Decepticons is now gone. A moment later, Berger announces the next contest, "uhoh...Now this is really not something I'm good at... where's Mirage when you need him?" Crosscheck gets back on his feet and starts to chase the beast. Crosscheck quickly shifts to his robot mode. Crosscheck checks his Speed against 65: Failure :(As the mecha-turbo-petro-whatever ox meanders through, Fusillade pops up from behind a set of boulders, palm fronds arranged around her helm like a luau crown, face very suddenly and handsomely appointed in warpaint. "AI-yeee-Ig-Yac-a-koo-kow!" She hops up and down, and bolts after the beast into the obscurity of the underbrush! There's several loud crashes, briefly punctuated by the oxen thrashing about with her latched onto its nose with her teeth. The pair stampede back into the bushes, and the crashes continue to sound out in a wide arc that eventually circles back around to the scowling Decepticon leader. Fusillade checks her Speed against 65: Success! Cosmos pops up out of his dejected heap of palm fronds and chases after the ox as fast as he can, his stubby legs pumping away under him like a cat crossing the street. Sideswipe hops to his feet.. a hunt isn't a fight but it's close. He passes over a pike or club, instead launching into pursuit on foot. Real mechs hunted with fists that could crumble decepticon fortifications! Sideswipe checks his Speed against 65: Success! Wheelie stares down the ox, he's obviously put his 'hunter hat' on. The beast stomps left, the boy bot steps left. The beast roars right, the survivalist creeps right. Out of nowhere he lunges with a small WITTLED pike... ...towards the ox. "You'll make a fine feast, you big stoopid beast!" "I don't even know what that /is/," Galvatron growls at Sideswipe, "but rest assured I will greatly enjoy firing your rocket launcher as a party favor after I rip it from your shoulders -- along with your /head/." His head snaps up as the ox smashes around. "Ah," he says. "Something to /kill/, finally." Galvatron checks his Speed against 35: Success! Galvatron checks his Speed against 65: Failure :(Cosmos pursues the ox with the jawbone of an ass! It works pretty well on Hittites so why not. "Back me up! Back me up!!!" Fusillade shrieks in a panic from her armlock around the bovine's thick neck. Cosmos crashes clumsily through the underbrush chanting "Kill the pig, spill her blood, bash her in!" Sideswipe, Wheelie, Cosmos, and Fusillade manage to clamber all over, or at least follow straight behind, the howling ox, and it thrashes violently, trying to smash them against the trees to get them off. "Let's see if our contestants can survive this inpromptu rodeo ride!" jokes Berger lamely. Cosmos checks its Endurance against 70: Failure :("Hh," Galvatron says, not really trying very hard. "If we can't get the ox, we'll eat the fat Autobot." Cosmos is hurled off! He falls off a cliff and breaks his head and glasses. x_x Sideswipe catches at the wild ox, going for a ride. He missed the Ig-Yak ride, now was a chance to see how much bucking he could really take. Sideswipe checks his Endurance against 70: Failure :(Wheelie checks its Endurance against 70: Success! Sideswipe cannot take as muich bucking as he hoped, cast off and taking down a tree. This must be why Cybertrons just ingested liquids... well.. most of them. "Reeeeee!!" Fusillade squeaks as she is flung about. She glowers at all the Autobots attached. With one good hand dug into the pebbly hide of the beast, she takes the other and swipes at the flank of the creature to whip it into a greater frenzy. "S'mine," she growls out territorially. Fusillade checks her Endurance against 70: Success! Wheelie manages to hang onto the rampaging ox. "OoooOOooooOoo, this is fun. Wheelie must be the chosen ONE!" "Now for the fun part!" Berger says cheerfully, and chants, eerily like Cosmos earlier, "KILL THE OX! Kill the pig, spill her blood, bash her in!" The ox stops running, and tries bucking and jumping like crazy to try and force its tormentors off of its back. Is this the poor creature's last moments? Crosscheck runs...and runs but hunting is definatly not a sport for him. After a few minutes, he gives up, "Go guys go!" At least he can cheer for the others. Shawn Berger blinks. "Wait, what did I say? Pig? Ox?" He wipes at his forehead with a hanky. "Something came over me..." Cosmos tucks his brain back in and screws the top of his head back on and climbs back up the cliff. "It's all right, I'm okay!" Wheelie is saddled atop the beast, it heaves and kicks with all the strength it can muster. Then the beast stares the boy-bot in the optic... ...their eye's meeting for one second, the ox communicating it's inner beast to the survivalist. It's kick grows less, as if on some sort of level... ...Wheelie understands the ox? He thrusts his WITTLED pike/stick towards it's jugular. His bravado is gone... ...no yell from this one. Wheelie checks its Dexterity against 85: Success! With a toss of head, the oxen's motions slow, as Fusillade and Wheelie are the last ones doggedly holding on. As the boy Bot goes for the pig-sticker motif, Fusillade decides to opt for a more difficult task of disemboweling the creature. Space-PETA will be frothing after this. Flicking one wrist, she unfurls one wingblade, its surfaces gleaming in the sunlight, before slashing down in a wide slow-motion arc across the creature's belly -- but at a steep price, the weapons could still get knocked away by the creature's wildly churning legs... Fusillade checks her Dexterity against 85: Success! Berger glowers as he watches a video feed of the kill on his iPhone iiii. The ox sputters as it is stabbed and eviscerated, slowing down as fuel spurts out of its neck and mechanical components drop out of its belly. "Dammit, the Autobot still managed to hang on! Well, you still have to chop the creature up to eat it. Quickly now, divvy up those portions before the other side gets them!" Galvatron is tall, and has the reach advantage on his side -- that is why he stomps over, intent on scooping up massive armfuls, all for him. And, potentially, Fusillade. But mostly him. "Get out of my way!" he roars. Cosmos checks its Strength against 60: Failure :(Galvatron checks his Strength against 60: Success! Cosmos tries to drag away a chunk of ox but his ass-mar is getting to him. Crosscheck finally reaches the ox. He kneels beside it and uses his surgical scalpel to chop it into piece...without cutting off someone else's fingers... Crosscheck checks his Strength against 60: Failure :(
* shinckt shinckt!* Fusillade grins a wicked grin as she holds up those wingblades, now not so demure and fan-like in her previous poses. She gives a petulant HEYYYYYY as Galvatron emerges to take the lion's share, palm to her face. That doesn't deter her from hacking off a haunch for herself. Fusillade checks her Strength against 60: Failure :(Sideswipe dinged and dented, makes his way upto the remains.. a good time to have a large cleever.. saddly he does not. Instead he begins to pull at the ox's anatomy HUGE GUTS, RIP AND TEAR Sideswipe checks his Strength against 60: Success! Wheelie checks its Strength against 60: Success! "It pleases me to see you Autobots so wantonl ripping a living thing to pieces," Galvatron notes, before giving Fusillade a squint. Wheelie is whirling around the beast, cutting here... ...chopping there. He's precise with his strokes, not trying to puncture the organs that house the 'waste'. "It's nature, red in tooth and claw!" exclaims Cosmos. He can't even gnaw on robo-ox if he wanted to since he has no mouth but he seems to be getting into it. Minibots are so easily influenced. "You don't even know what that /means/," Galvatron scoffs. Sideswipe is quickly being spattered with mechanical gore, ripping a entire limb away from the body, "Hey.. you fight monsters long enough.. and tyou can become a bit of one yourself." With a sad "MOOOOooooo..." the ox slumps down onto its knees as it is brutally chopped up and divided into portions. "Ungh," Berger says, wincing as he watches on his iPhone iiii. "That's disgusting, strangely. But..." He sighs. "...alas, the Autobots have gathered up more of the ox's remains than the Decepticons, so it seems they *may* have won this event. I *guess*." Shaking his head in disappointment, he announces, "But you better take your prize back to your homes fast, because you may have visitors!" Off in the distance, several ships with black flags can be seen. Wheelie has one leg under one arm, a horn under the next. Red blood is stained all over his face, but it's currently hung low as he stomps back to their sad excuse for a shelter. Crosscheck fails at cooking apparently...not surprising for a Cybertronian though. The scientist heads back to the shelter with the other autobots. "From oxen to pirates..." muttered Sideswipe, attempting to wipe gore from his features, succeeding only in spreading it about. "We gotta butcher these guys to?" he wonders befor making a quick run with his laden prize. Screws up her face in a bratty moue of someone who knows they really /CAN'T/ do anything about or to the biggest bully in the schoolyard. After the announcer heralds the next round, she makes a face. "Meat pirates? They make them for all kinds of things, heh." She meanders back to the relatively nicer shelter, humming merrily to herself. Fusillade screws up her face in a bratty moue of someone who knows they really /CAN'T/ do anything about or to the biggest bully in the schoolyard. After the announcer heralds the next round, she makes a face. "Meat pirates? They make them for all kinds of things, heh." She meanders back to the relatively nicer shelter, humming merrily to herself. "I heard someone say it before!" replies Cosmos defiantly as he returns to the Autobots' sadly deflated pile of hut. Galvatron storms back toward the shelter. He throws a whole oxen leg into Fusillade's arms -- "Gorge on it," he says dispassionately. "I suppose just /shooting/ these... visitors is out of the question." "We... /have/ to eat it?" Fusillade staggers under the weight of the leg, before wiping her fingers along the surface and incising several spiral swirls of fluid along her wings abd tailfins. "So they say," she remarks in dissatisfaction. "No real spotlight on farpowah in any of the official Olympic events either," she sniffs briefly. "I can make triangles on you if you want!" she offers helpfully from two armlengths' distance. "What do you think they'll let us do next?" The pirate ships have drawn close to the shore, and their leader, a peg-legged, hook-handed alien pirate, leans over the edge of his ship, brandishing his scimitar menacingly. "ARRR! We be the pirates of Pequod, and we be hearin' ye have fresh robo-meat, good to eat! Hand it over, or we'll keel-haul yeh! In case ya need help making up yer minds, 'ere's a few warnin' shots, ARRRRR! Fire away, me boys!" His pirate crew chants "YO HO HO HO!" as they load cannon shells into howitzers poking out of the sides of the pirate ships' hulls. "For this round," Berger says, pressing a button on his belt, which causes a shimmering field to appear around his body, "You have to dodge the shells as the pirates attack your island! But don't worry, you'll get your chance at revenge very soon!" And then, the howitzers all fire with a sound like thunder, and the island becomes a scene of fire and chaos! Cosmos is backlit by fire, mopping his brow with a wet rag. "The horror... the horror." Cosmos checks its Speed against 65: Success! Wheelie checks its Speed against 65: Failure :(uhoh. Crosscheck is totally out of his league here...he can't even remember the last time he was under fire. The scientist runs back and forth along the beach, trying to avoid the pirate's fire and perhaps find some cover. Crosscheck checks his Speed against 65: Failure :(Galvatron checks his Speed against 65: Failure :(Sideswipe is just generaly a contrary machine. He wasn't about to try and suck nourishment from the oxen bits.. but he'd be slagged if he was about to allow himself to give them over. So he dodges his best.. lousy pirates! Sideswipe checks his Speed against 65: Failure :(Any retort from Galvatron is cut short by a long whistling sound. Fusillade cocks her head to the side, "Hey, /I/ know what that sound is! INCOMING!!!" She ducks for cover, waving wildly at Galvatron as the cannonade begins to shred their shelter. "Awww nuts and bolts!!! We can't let 'em have it even if it's just to spite them!!!" Fusillade checks her Speed against 65: Failure :(Wheelie tries his best to dodge against the pirates barrage, but it's ultimately just a happenstance of waiting for the other shoe to drop. A nearby tree explodes upon impact with a projectile and peppers him with leaves, bark, etc. Galvatron pointedly refuses to run or dodge. He simply stands there, pointing at the pirates, face contorted with rage. He's about to start screaming something when a shell blasts him in the chest, sending him hurtling backward. The 'lousy Pirates' comments must have jinxed it, Sideswipe catches a blast, cratering the beach where he once stood and sending him flying. Cosmos surprisingly enough does not get hit by anything even though shells fall all around him. "In a war there are many moments for compassion and tender action. There are many moments for ruthless action - what is often called ruthless - what may in many circumstances be only clarity, seeing clearly what there is to be done and doing it, directly, quickly, awake, looking at it," he explains to Sideswipe. Cosmos paints his face with mud instead. Shawn Berger then uses a loudspeaker to yell the next set of instructions. "OK. FOR THIS ROUND, YOU WERE ABLE TO REPAIR YOUR RANGED WEAPONS IN TIME TO DEFEND YOUR ISLAND! YOU MAY NOW RETURN FIRE AGAINST THE PIRATES! DON'T WORRY, THEY'RE, UH, JUST DRONES, I GUESS!" That's actually a lie. The pirates are part of a competition where the survivors of the event can expect to win their own little cash reward. They're also kinda stupid. Cosmos checks its Firepower against 60: Failure :(Cosmos is too busy being traumatized by his experiences on the island to return fire at the pirates, obviously. Crosscheck blasted by the pirates and bites the dust as he falls on the ground, "Hrrg, that hurts... why in the cold heart of Straxus do dinobots like to fight that much?" The scientist slowly gets back on his feet. A little laser cannon pop out of his right arm as he raises it and fires back at the pirates. Crosscheck checks his Firepower against 60: Failure :(Avalanche arrives from the Six Lasers Solar System. Avalanche has arrived. Sideswipe pushes himself to his feet from his landing point, Sideswipe is all too ready to put some gunplay back in thish show. Bringing to bare his rifle and flare launcher, Sideswipe opens fire, cranking the gauge forwards befor light erupts from both weapons. Sideswipe checks his Firepower against 60: Success! Wheelie manages to free himself from the debis at last, unleashing a hail of small red stones via his slingshot. He lights up with glee, the blood is splashed across his entire face now. "You pirates are such a pest, no wonder why Ninjas are the BEST!" Wheelie checks its Firepower against 60: Failure :("My meats!!!" Fusillade cries out in protest as gobbets are liquefied and splashed all over the Decepticon camp. As the tinny sound of the bullhorn makes itself audible over the shelling, she purses lips, and glances up? "Oh ho ho ho, ho ho HA HAAAAA HAA HAH HAH," she rears back in vicious delight. Pulling goggles back over her optics with an audible 'snap', she gives Galvatron a giant thumbs-up before turning to the offending pirate craft. Making a box with her hands' thumbs and forefingers, she looks for all the world like an artist sizing up a canvas, before she lets rip with a twenty year leap forward in Martin Sheen's acting career. "What is the virtue of a proportional response? There IS NO VIRTUE!" Fusillade checks her Firepower against 60: Success! "Smells like victory," comments Cosmos. "NNGHH," Galvatron roars as he clambers to his feet. He stomps forward, clearly ready to fire even if Shawn Berger hadn't given the okay to. "ENOUGH!" Galvatron roars! "I HAVE HAD IT /TO HERE/ AND /BEYOND/ WITH THIS RIDICULOUS FARCE!" Wait... did he hear Shawn at all? It sounds an awful lot like he's just, er, exploding. "BUILDING SHANTIES AND BUTCHERING ROBOT OXEN... I AM THE EMPEROR OF THE DECEPTICONS, AND I /TIRE OF THIS/!" Suddenly, Galvatron transforms, flipping backward and landing on the wet sand in his treaded artillery mode! His barrel glows violent orange -- and he fires, blasting at the ships indiscriminately! Galvatron checks his Firepower against 60: Success! Several pirate ships are destroyed in the return fire. Sideswipe punches some holes in one of them, and lights its sails on fire with his flares. "Abandon ship!" the pirates cry, hopping onto rowboats and rowing away from the ship as fast as they can. Then, Fusillade blasts another ship into wooden splinters, and a third ship is struck head-on by Galvatron's cannon. Nothing happens to it at first, then, it turns grey, and with a rush of wind, it disintegrates into a cloud of ash. "Arr! What the hell, they can shoot back?!" the pirate captain snarls. "Very well, then! Mateys, get into close quarters and hack these laddies up!" The surviving ships close in on the island, and a horde of pirates jumps off of them onto the beaches, running at the Transformers, screaming and yelling as they brandish their laser cutlasses. Cosmos checks its Dexterity against 65: Success! Wheelie checks its Dexterity against 65: Success! Cosmos cleaves many a pirate with a machete in reverse-angle shots while savage drums play in the background. Fusillade checks her Dexterity against 65: Success! Sideswipe holds his fire.. as silly as it maybe to do against a charging foe armed only for close quarter combat. Holstering his weapon and stowing his launcher, Sideswipe flings himself into the fray with fists leading. Sideswipe checks his Dexterity against 65: Failure :(Sideswipe gets sucker punched! Wheelie charges at the pirates, his wittled pikes in either hand. Whirling through the oncoming masses, he stabs and strikes here... ...jabs and parries there. His face grows alight with excitement once more, even letting out a cackling noise that soon develops into full out mischevious laughter. "HEHEHEHAHAHA" Crosscheck shakes his head as the pirates run towards the Cybertronian, "Are they crazy?" he mutters for himself. The scientist brace himself for the impact, holding a scalpel in each hand. As soon as the pirates arrive in range, he starts to slash widely in front of him. Crosscheck checks his Dexterity against 65: Failure :(Galvatron leaps to his feet, transforming into robot mode and immediately charging the nearest pirate, intent on ripping him to shreds and using those shreds to pummel anyone near him into a humiliated mess. "NNNNYAAARRRRGGGHHH!" he screams, bestially angry. "/SURVIVE/ THIS, YOU SIMPLE SAVAGES!" Galvatron checks his Dexterity against 65: Success! The pirate captain takes out a telescope, extending it to its full length, and watches the carnage from afar. "ARRR! How can this be?! Me men are some of the toughest pirates around!? How can they be beaten by mere giant warlike robots!" He pauses. "Oh, right. Fortunately, I 'appen to be something of a warlike robot meself! Arr har har har!" Then, two additional arms, clearly cybernetic in nature and sporting laser cutlasses, sprout out of his back. Then two more! Then a pole sprouts out of his back, standing him, up, and he uses his feet to carry two more cutlasses! "Har har har!" the pirate captain laughs as he hops up and down on the pole on his back, headed right for the contestants as he thrashes his laser cutlasses! Crosscheck checks his Speed against 80: Failure :(Galvatron checks his Speed against 80: Failure :(Crosscheck checks his Dexterity against 70: Failure :(Avalanche checks his Speed against 80: Success! Wheelie checks its Speed against 80: Success! Fusillade checks her Speed against 80: Failure :(Fusillade checks her Dexterity against 80: Success! Crosscheck is slashed by the captain! Pieces of his chestplate are flying everywhere and the scientist grunts in pain. He attempts to retaliate but his fists hit nothing but the ground. The autobot is unable to keep up and he finally falls back and starts to crawl away. Galvatron naturally fails to dodge because he is a huge jerk who will just get right up in your grill no matter what. "Do you think a wildly inconvenient amount of cutlasses will scare /me/, the leader of the Decepticons?!" he roars, changing forward and taking a searing cutlass slice to the chest. In Galvatron's hands are the arms of one of the pirates, liberated from the pirate's torso, which he then starts swinging just as wildly, attempting to pummel the captain. "SUBMIT OR FACE MY UNDILUTED WRATH!" he roars. Wheelie manages to dodge the twirling ballerina that is the Captain of the Pirates. He positions himself to skewer him with one of the pikes. Galvatron checks his Dexterity against 70: Success! Wheelie checks its Dexterity against 70: Success! Cosmos checks its Speed against 80: Success! Cosmos checks its Dexterity against 70: Success! Cosmos dashes under the pirate captain's wild flurry of slashes and slides past him with machete outstretched! *shing* Sideswipe checks his Speed against 80: Success! "Gurk?" Fusillade manages to query before getting shredded. Her attempts to parry are futile at best, but she does land a few wicked blows before the leader wades past her, before she snaps out an ankle to trip him over her feet. "And stay down!!" She yells, before wobbling a bit on her feet and clutching the embarrassingly wide swatch of material cut out of her empennage. Sideswipe checks his Dexterity against 70: Failure :(Sideswipe deftly manages to stumble away from sweeping blades and other such hurty things. He's still to dazed to fight back however. "ARRRR!" the pirate captain yells as some of his robot arms get chopped off by Cosmos, and Wheelie manages to stab him in the chest a few times. He's smacked silly by the limb of the dead pirate, wobbling about until finally he tips over and falls flat onto his back. "Arrrrrr..." he grunts, apparently dying/falling unconscious. "Shoulda stuck with me career as General Egregious..." "Hm, well, now the judges have to decide how well you did in that fight," Berger says. "Let's give them one moment as they determine who did better." Sunder arrives from the Six Lasers Solar System. Sunder has arrived. Sunder moves to the Six Lasers Solar System. Sunder has left. "What!?" Sean Berger yells. "What do you mean, the Autobots win!? The Decepticons had few people, and..." He makes a face. "Bah. Autobots win the last event. The first event was a tie, second event was won by the Decepticons, and the Autobots won the third event. Sigh. So, the Autobots won Survivor..." He looks fearfully at Galvatron. "But, ah, don't worry, Mr. Galvatron! You'll get a great prize, too! A brand new space yacht, just for you, with lightning-quick FTL, and staffed by the best prostidroid masseusses! Eheheheh!" Galvatron gives Shawn this glare. Like, even across the distance, it is as if Galvatron is staring directly into Shawn Berger's soul. He doesn't say anything, and frankly, he really doesn't need to. He just /glares/ for this long, profoundly, profoundly uncomfortable moment. Then, with a grunt and a nod toward Fusillade, he flies away. At least Galvatron didn't shoot the Autobots -- a rare sign of sportsmanship?! Fusillade glances up from arranging a thatched tiger trap complete with bamboo stakes at the bottom. Sitting at the edge of the pit, she juts out her lower lip in a brief pout at the end results, before tagging along behind Galvatron. She doesn't particularly find any use in the consolation prize, but now wasn't the time to cross the tyrant with anymore glib comments. Wheelie jumps up and down, flapping his arms in the air. "When it was all said and done... ... ...The Autobots won!" He promtly stops the frantic movement just long enough to stick a robo-tongue out at Fusillade. Hotdog in the hallway. :("I wanted a mission," mutters Cosmos, who is still a little shellshocked and not jumping around. "And for my sins, they gave me one." "Sooo..." begain Sideswipe, straightening himself out, hands folding behind his head, "We get a ride out of here, right?" Shawn Berger ulps, suddenly regretting his decision to referee this event. Just as Sideswipe asks that, a Six Lasers transport ship lands near the Autobots and opens a loading ramp. "Screw the transport in the skies... ...Wheelie wants the prize!" the mini-bot mutters. Fusillade has left. Galvatron has left. Inside the transport, you can see the promised stash of energon! "So... what's all this divided four ways?" wonders Sideswipe as he boards. Wheelie boards rather quickly, once his optics rest on the treasure. "Four ways? Sideswipe must be in a daze. Wheelie did all the work, you lazy jerk!" Sideswipe's gaze turns down to Wheelie, thoughts of leaving him on the island rolling in his processor, "What about three ways?" he muses, a swat sent the the back of Wheelie's head. Shawn Berger begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from Avalanche, Sideswipe, Wheelie. You evade Sideswipe's grasp attack. You evade Wheelie's grasp attack. Avalanche succeeds in grasping Shawn Berger, throwing him off-balance. Wheelie has left. Avalanche moves to the Six Lasers Solar System. Avalanche has left. Sideswipe has left.
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