| abstract
| - OOC: This is a partial log, if anyone has the rest of the poses please feel free to add them. EDC HQ - Shuttle Control - Of all the EDC HQ satellite bases, Area 51 shows the least amount of change from its previous state. Area 51, smack in the middle of the blazing Nevada heat, contains numerous above ground facilities and three Cybertonium landing strips. From the ground, Earth Defense Command shuttlecraft and other aerospace vehicles can be seen taking off and landing at all hours of the day. From afar, a powerful cloaking field hides their presence and confuses long range sensors into thinking normal military craft are here. Unlike the other satellite bases, Area 51 does not hide its existence; instead it hides what it truly is. Most believe it still under the control of the United States Air Force. The base's command center leads directly to the underground GroundBridge terminal connecting it to the rest of EDC HQ, and work with them to monitor the state of all EDC vehicles around the globe. Its defenses are the most conventional of them all, with massive anti-air laser turrets, missile batteries, long range radar dishes, and a whole host of tanks and soldiers here to defend the base. Ford's missions had seen him across the planet, but Area 51 was his base of choice when it came to being home. Plus, it was home to the EDC Rangers, so he naturally found it the most comfortable. Ford crouched as he worked on his hovercycle, giving it a small improvement from his last mission and reloading the EMP Missiles. Hearing a sputtering whine coming from outside the bay doors, Ford stood up, jogging outside. "Uhp, sounds like lunch is ready..." he said, walking over to an old, clearly overheating engine with a large frying pan on top and some bacon cooking in it. Little did the unwitting human know that nearby is the overly concerned Autobot Tailgate. He's been watching Ford for the past half an hour, cringing as he watched him tweak the hovercycle. /I bet he didn't even ask him, or her, for permission before he started doing all those tuneups!/ he thinks to himself. But when Ford leaves the cycle alone for a few moments, he carpe diems and protoforms and picks up the hovercycle. He then begins to make off it, trying to be discreet... Amber MacKenzie is off by the control tower, sitting on a level rock well within the cloaking field. Despite the rather loud comings and goings of air traffic, most of her attention is on her Blackberry. The cold January air (yes, it gets cold in Nevada in the winter) warrants a warm jacket. That, and the bursts of hot air from landing aircraft is enough to keep her comfortable as she studies the small screen, a frown on her face. The sneaking Autobot, the hungry Ford both go unnoticed. Amber's Blackberrying is suddenly interrupted by a loud BOOM and a rush of air as Blurr whizzes past her toward the EDC base. He needed to speak with Tailgate regarding the details of their upcoming mission. The speedster comes to a halt, immediately noticing the other Autobot trying to steal a hovercycle from the EDC. He groans and shakes his head. What the frag did he think he was doing?! Suddenly, he is standing in front of Tailgate. "What in the afterspark do you think you're doing? That hovercycle is EDC property!" Blurr startles the innocent crimedoer Tailgate. "Ah!" He starts, nearly dropping the hover cycle, but he hastily catches it just in time. "Careful! You almost made me damage her!" he cries, cradling the cycle in his arms gently, staring down at it fondly. Amber MacKenzie has been hearing the rumbling thunder of sonic booms all day, but none from right in front of her. Almost dropping her Blackberry, she leaps to her feet in alarm, barely in time to catch a blurred glimpse of blue lightning passing her by. Turning to track whatever the bloody hell it was, she finally perceives a familiar figure, at least once he slows down. Blurr, then Tailgate, an Autobot she only recognizes from EDC records, and the illustrious Ford Bennett, armed with a frying pan. Be afraid, be very afraid. And... is Tailgate cuddling that hovercycle? She rolls her eyes and sits down again. Blurr shakes his head. "Tailgate...that's a hovercycle, not a fellow Cybertronian. It's not a sapient being, so stop treating it like one. Now, please put it down gently back where you found it." "Shh! I'm trying to hear what she's saying!" Tailgate murmurs.. Amber MacKenzie resumes her work, occasionally grumbling at what she's reading. She opens another file to take notes. Romeogate's sordid love affair with the hovercycle is of no interest to her. The bacon smells good, though. She sighs and forces herself to ignore the bacon, too. She just had dinner, and that's enough. Blurr is getting quite impatient, now. He never really was known for being patient, at all. "Tailgate, you are a soldier. So stop leaking lubricants and act like one! Put the hovercycle down, /now/. It belongs to the EDC. After that whole Cross business this is the /last/ sort of thing we need." "You might outrank me," he says loudly, "But you won't stop me from doing the right thing!" Tailgate proclaims boldly. "It is my duty, as an Autobot, to set this fellow mechanism free from being underneath the tyranny of mankind, to ensure justice is distributed equally among all sentient beings.." Amber MacKenzie isn't really in eavesdropping range, and aircraft taking off and landing doesn't help any, but the emphasis on certain words and her hypersensitivity to another allows her to catch some. A brow arches, and she squirms a bit on her rocky perch to turn back towards the Autobots just in time to hear Tailgate's heroic proclamation. Rising to her feet, she strolls over to the quarreling duo, hands thrust into her pockets to keep them warm. "Tyranny of mankind, eh?" Blurr is appalled by this statement. The -nerve- of some people! He glares at Tailgate. "What the FRAG is your problem, Tailgate?! I just -told- you, it isn't alive! And have you gone binary? Shouting that in an EDC base?!" he grumbles, seeing Amber as she finally makes her way down. Great, now he was making a scene. "Put the hovercycle down NOW, or I'll -make- you. And I'll report you for attempted theft of EDC property -and- insubordination." Tailgate suddenly notices that Amber is present. "O-oh, s-sorry, ma'am," he says genuinely. "Not that I have anything against humans, I just don't agree with the way they, uh, /handle/ other, smaller mechanical beings." He fidgets nervously. "I didn't mean to insult you or anything like that, I'm sure you're a perfectly nice person.." He cringes when Blurr orders him to put the hovercycle down. He crouches down low and puts the cycle on the ground, still clutching it desperately. Amber MacKenzie comes to a halt and crosses her arms, staring upward at Tailgate. "How many times have you been told that what you claim are "smaller mechanical beings" are non-sapient? You've proclaimed your intention of ensuring justice is distributed among all *sentient* beings, and those aren't necessarily even sapient. Prove your case, sir. Prove that that machine is even sentient. Have First Aid examine it for a laser core, or a neural net. Here's a hint: we Terrans are not capable of creating laser cores or neural nets; we're not even capable of creating sentient life, let alone sapient life. You ignore Blurr when he tells you this. Will you ignore First Aid, too?" She turns next towards Blurr, green eyes narrowed, but she bites back whatever it was she wanted to say. Instead, she remains silent and waits for Tailgate to answer. Blurr groans as Tailgate continues to clutch the hovercycle, but touches it to the ground. "Don't be a glitchead, Tailgate. You -know- what I meant." He nods at Amber's challenges. "Yeah, what she said." Apocryphacius arrives via GroundBridge terminal from EDC HQ - Ground Bridge Hub - . WHOOSH! "N-Not that many times." That was a lie. But Tailgate doesn't want to look stupid--however, he just can't give up the idea that these mechanical beings /aren't/ being enslaved by the humans. "I'm sure she can understand me. It's .. just not in a way that most people can understand." Himself excluded, apparently. He just looks embarrassed now but is still bent on saving the little hovercycle. He stares at the ground, still clutching the hovercycle protectively. Combat: Judgement runs a diagnostic check on Ford Benett Amber MacKenzie snorts softly. "So you'd prefer to believe that we humans are enslaving these machines? You're making a very serious accusation against the human race, one that I find rather insulting, and I'm still waiting for you to prove your case." Yeah, put your money where your mouth is, dude. Blurr has just about had it. Suddenly, he draws his electro-laser, pointing it right at Tailgate's face. "By Primus, I am going to knock you into stasis lock if you don't -let go- of that hovercycle -right- now." He is serious. "So why don't you stop acting like a circuit speeder addict with a malfunctioning processing module before I have to shoot you -and- report you." "Like I said, nothing against the humans, I just think they're just a little confused, that's all. It's not a serious accusation," he protests, "just a little disagreement, that's all." But when he sees that Blurr pointing his laser cannon at him, he gets a terrified and shocked look on his faceplates. "Y-you wouldn't... " he says, sounding hurt. He looks down at the hover cycle then back over at Blurr, hesitating. Then he lets go of the hovercycle and stands up with a sigh, shaking his helm. "I guess it isn't worth losing a friend over." He looks over at Amber. "Eh, sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean to," Tailgate apologizes. Amber MacKenzie nods curtly. "Accepted, as long as you do the research I've mentioned twice to you already: have First Aid examine any of our vehicles or aircraft for any trace of the hardware without which an artificial life form cannot exist." She turns away from the two, her face still grim. "I find the irony in this situation rather distasteful. One Autobot defends non-sapient objects, and yet I've listened to so many others treat a sapient life form as an object." She points to Blurr. "This is a person with a red symbol. He has his beliefs, his hopes, his dreams." Next, she points to an imaginary figure next to Blurr. No, don't jump, there's no one really there. "That guy with a purple symbol is a person, too. His beliefs, hopes, and dreams are different, but he still has them." Another imaginary form is indicated. Her tone becomes even grimmer. "And that guy with the five faces is also a person with hopes and dreams. His are more like ours, or even the Autobots, yet all that is seen are those five faces, not the person behind them." Blurr groans subspaces the stun weapon. -Finally-. "-Thank- you." he says in a manner that is not at all pleasant and definitely does not sound like he is the least bit appreciative. He sighs at Amber. "It doesn't matter, miss. Even if he conducts the research, he'll find -some- stupid reason in his mind to keep on believing it." He just shrugs at her mention of the Quintessons. "You'll never understand the Quintessons, human. If you did, you'd know why we don't trust them." "You're welcome!" he says perkishly, trying to sound appreciative although Blurr isn't in the slightest. But he crumples under Blurr's insult. "It's not stupid.." he says softly. He sighs heavily and sits down next to Amber. "I think what Blurr is trying to say is that some people's hopes, dreams and beliefs are to crush others. And what are you going to do about that?" Judgement does work here, 'here' being 'anywhere the EDC happens to need him'. It's really not all that strange for him to happen to wander through any particular room of Area 51. Right now, he is chasing what appears to be a small glowing green ball, about the size of a human softball. The Quintesson worries aloud, "Oh dear, oh dear, that had better not touch water..." Amber MacKenzie smirks up at Blurr. "Prove your case, sir. Oh, I know you can prove that other Quintessons have done horrible things, but you cannot blame an individual for the crimes of others. Tell me, gentlemen, what if five million years ago, a Cybertronian was created like so many others. If someone puts a purple symbol on his chest, does that mean he's automatically evil? What great power does that symbol have that it would form his mind into one that cherishes hate and murder and destruction? I rather disagree that a symbol, a piece of metal, would turn a sapient being evil, or good for that matter." She begins to pace, somewhat restless now, plus it's uncomfortable staring so far up. "Then there's us humans. There are some evil, some good, with the majority falling in between. We were not given an evil mindset at birth, either. And the same goes for Quintessons. We Terrans are shaped by the lives we lead, and Apocryphacius was raised on Earth as a Terran." And speak of the devil... As she makes a turn, she spies an incoming Devil. Blurr just groans at Amber's arguments. He is -really- not in the mood for some political debate over what makes someone good or evil. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Like I said, you humans will never understand. You haven't been around long enough. Besides, I'm a soldier, not a politician or philosopher, so you can stop talking to me as if I were one of those." But his attention is soon drawn toward the strange glowing green orb on the flooor. "What the frag is -that-?" The glowing green orb just appears to be a very bouncy thing of... it might be jelly? Doesn't look like it has any obvious mechanical parts. It hits a wall, bounces up, and starts richoeting around the ceiling. Apocryphacius branishes a butterfly net and attempts to catch the ball without much success, obvious to the current conversation. Amber MacKenzie muses quietly, "That sounds so much like an immature human teenager, who condescending proclaims, 'Ohhhhh, you can't *possibly* understand *me*. You're a grownup!' Or 'you're a mere human!' in this case. Nor is this anything to do with politics; it's the *science* of psychology. But, as you wish. Keep your comfortable mindset and shut out anything that might contradict it. After all, you live for millions of years and that makes you *far* superior to any mere squishy." She turns away from Blurr, clearly a lost cause, and eyes the Quintesson. "Apocryphacius, what on Earth are you doing?" she asks. Doing a double take, her hand drops to her pocket to verify that her weapon is at hand, in case yet *another* Autobot tries to kill Apocryphacius. Blurr's optics follow the strange orb as it ricochets around, ignoring Amber's comparison of him to a teenager. Of course, he wouldn't understand the reference, anyway, since Cybertronians don't have different 'stages' of a life cycle like the humans do. Anyway, he darts after the orb, easily catching up with it and snatching it up by brushing it into his palm. He examines it, wondering what it is. He arches a brow ridge at Apocryphacius. "So what is it?" Judgement cringes when Blurr catches the orb and he holds out his net. The Quintesson says nervously, "If you use an acetone wash on you hand, you /should/ be fine - oh, it is highly water absorptive substance! Just this small amount could swallow up a swimming pool. Thereotically." He looks left and right. "I have not exactly /tried/ that volume of water. That would be wasteful and rather silly." "Better not let any organics touch it, then." Blurr remarks as he drops the strange thing into the net. Since they're practically -made- of water. "You should be more careful about keeping that stuff contained. You could have endangered some of your friends, here." "...What are you planning on using it for, anyway?" The speedster -tries- to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but--he doesn't do that great of a job of it. Amber MacKenzie stays away from the object. She, too, realizes that humans are mostly water. Instead, she looks back to Tailgate, belatedly recalling his question. "Yes, and there are plenty of humans throughout our history who've wanted to conquer the world, regardless of what the rest of the world wants. What do we do? We stop them with as much force as is necessary. Sometimes a person may honestly believe what he is doing is for the best. Killing him is, well, overkill. Then again, others have become just plain evil, and imprisoning or killing them is the only way to prevent the deaths of innocents. It's a dangerous and slippery slope trying to decide who actually is right, and many times we find that our decision was wrong. Learn from it and move on." Tailgate watches the bouncing glowy green orb with curiously with fascination, optics wide, until Blurr catches it. "Wow! That's cool!" he says, not even aware of who it was that had just uttered words, he's so focused on the glowing green object. Then he sees Apocryphacius and has a mini spark attack! "Ah! A Quint!" He tries to reach for his weapon, but suddenly remembers he's left it somewhere inconvienent, because he didn't want the hovercycle to think he was unfriendly or violent. But he sees that Blurr doesn't seem to be terribly wary of the Quint and settles down, suddenly becoming inquisitive. He tries to make optic contact with Apocryphacius, as he's quite curious now. In response to Amber, he says, "I mean, I guess we can't automatically assume that about every Decepticon, but y'know, their general premise is to crush other people's hopes, dreams, and beliefs." Judgement /did/ announce not to let it touch any water. He just assumes that everyone knows that humans are mostly made of water. Why wouldn't they know that? Once the green glob is netted, it quivers, looking almost excited. Apocryphacius answers easily, "Industrial dessicant." He does not address Blurr's concerns about the safety of lack thereof. Apocryphacius took due precautions (not that anyone would ever believe him; they never do)! The chemical simply displayed extremely unexpected behaviour and escaped the precautionary forecfield. Luckily, butterfly nets seem to be sufficient to hold it. Yeah, no, this behaviour does not make sense to him, either, yet. But he will figure it out! He does not make eye contact with Tailgate. The Minibot is simply too scary. Instead, he starts to move towards the door. Yeah, they can have their discussion about killing people... leave him out of this. Amber MacKenzie nods agreeably. "Yes. That's why I'm fighting against them. There are some decent people amongst them, but they are few and far between, and it's not likely that you'll ever find out that the Decepticon you just killed didn't really like what his leader was telling him to do. For each one of them that I kill - and yes, I've killed some - I mourn the loss of a life that *could* have been creative rather than destructive. But that doesn't mean that I'll risk others' lives on the chance that the next one might be decent. I may risk my own life, but not others'. We're at war." Blurr just looks at Apocryphacius for a good long moment before finally shrugging it off. One might argue that less dangerous industrial descciants were already tried and true, but not Blurr. "Just be more careful with your experiments, Apocryphacius. Someone could get ideas, you know, if one of them really got out of control." Ideas, as in, ideas that he had -planned- for things to get out of hand and that claims of an 'accident' were lies. Tailgate doesn't think he's scary. Hence, he continues to try to make optic contact with the Quintesson. He arches his brow ridges, as if trying to 'Hallo' at him without actually saying anything. He leans forward, and finally reaches forward to tap on Apocryphacious' head a bit hesitantly but gently. "Course, I agree with you. But you were implying something totally different earlier!" the smaller mech Tailgate exclaims. Judgement just about jumps when Tailgate taps him, and he cringes, again, the green goo still iggling in the net. His faces spin around, and he inquires, "...yes?" Judgement transforms into his Darkness mode. For a minute Tailgate just sits there, ogling the Quint, utterly confused. "What.. how.. I'm confused!" he says, optics wide. "I thought.. hnn..." He then taps his chin thoughtfully, looking pensive. Amber MacKenzie scowls as the mini-bot suddenly approaches Apocryphacius. Once again, she verifies that her pistol is at hand, though it's almost a subconscious reaction. Her voice takes on a sharper edge now as she follows after him. "Different situations, Tailgate. The Decepticons made a choice, however stupid it was, based on the information they had. Information that is controlled by the Decepticon leadership. He," She gestures towards the Quintesson. "also made a choice, but his was based on his life as a human and what he learned from us." Tailgate sits there, still staring, wanting an explanation. He looks over at Amber without saying anything, then looks over at Apocryphacius. "True, but after they knew what was going on, they still stayed. Well I mean, I guess the ones that didn't want to stay had a choice, but the fact is, most of them did want to. To conquer the galaxy and such." Cutting through the air, a barely audiable whistle tune suddenly reaches the bay of the garage. Without any sort of warning, the hovercycle Tailgate had been trying to liberate suddenly roars to life, kicking up dust as its anti-grav engines pushing it off without any aid of a rider and racing off in a seemingly random direction. Amber MacKenzie has seen this before, not only with Franklin Cross and Sophia II but with Talia's aircraft as well. *She*'s not deceived into thinking that the hovercycle is sapient! "By that time, they were so accustomed to that kind of thinking that it became a part of them. It's probably too late for most of them, even if we won the war tomorrow." Blurr's right. He's predicted Tailgate's reaction to a T. Abruptly, the minibot forgets the conversation he's having with Amber and watches in ecstasy as the cycle flies off. Optics wide, he jabs a finger servo in the direction the bike has gone. "SEE! SEE! She's sentient! I knew it! How's that for proof?!" He feels like doing a little dance, but he doesn't, for fear of social judgement. Darkness does not speak the obscure language of 'staring and eyeridge motions'. He does not understand what Tailgate wants out of him. He just wants to not be standing so near to the space robot warriors. Luckily for him, Ford's motorcycle shows back up, and Tailgate seems way more interested in that. The cycle returns. This time with a rider astride it as he pulls it into the garage. Ford looks... less impressive than he did when he left. Scratch and canine bite marks adorn much of his body and armor, a single strip of maple bacon hanging from his mouth. Hopping off the cycle, he pats the rider's seat, sending it back to it's original place in the garage bay as he turns and folds his arms, the bacon crunching as it gets sucked into his mouth. Looking off into the distance for a moment, he finishes the bacon and swallows, before looking around at everyone. "...I don't want to talk about it." Amber MacKenzie arches an eyebrow. Yes, *she* has eyebrows! "You've never heard of remote-controlled devices?" she wonders idly. And then Ford returns. She manages not to laugh at him. Instead, she glances at Apocryphacius, a bit worried. He crumples a little under Amber's truthful cynicism. Why he seems to always be around people who couldn't have cared less about his opinion is beyond even him. When he sees Ford, his optics widen. "Oooh! Are you okay?!" he gushes, clasping his hand servos together underneath his chin a bit nervously. Darkness is nervous and afraid and uncomfortable be around Blurr and Tailgate, which Amber should be able to determine fairly easily. He looks at Ford, and his expression changes to '...'. After a long moment, he asks awkwardly, "...do you require a rabies shot?" Ford just looked back around, before settling on Tailgate. "I'm fine... I just hate coyotes." Looking over at Apocryphacius, he nods. "Probably... again." Again? Ford just shakes his head, before letting it hang. "Let's just say... I've never been good with animals." He pauses a moment. "Then again, I suppose I have just as much success with cars, when I think about it... ah well..." It is a good thing that this human hadn't been in here when Tailgate had attempted to steal the hovercycle, Blurr muses. He glances at Apocryphacius, noticing his uneasiness. "Don't worry about Tailgate, Apocryphacius. He wouldn't harm a maintenance drone. Unless it belonged to the Decepticons." Amber MacKenzie was about to urge Apocryphacius to leave and avoid the Autobots, but here's a patient, and she knows he won't leave now. She'll have to talk to Marissa about assigning a couple troopers as the Quintesson's bodyguards. Make sure to warn them about Decepticons disguised as Autobots trying to kill him. Right, the Autobots would *never* do something like that, so it has to be Decepticons in disguise. She has to blink at Ford's announcement, and resolves to keep a distance in case the man starts foaming at the mouth. Darkness really, really hopes that he is not going to have to use the Milwaukee Protocol on Ford, because that has a terrible success rate. Hopefully Ford does not have rabies. Hopefully. Apocryphacius approaches the human and inquires, "If I could take a swab from one of the injuries for culturing? I can clean and dress the scratches afterwards." His faces click around incongruously. "In any case, the cessation of worry is not that easy, Autobot Blurr. I apologise if my distress bothers you." Darkness transforms into his Apocryphacius mode. Blurr has brought Tailgate's attention back to the Quintesson. He glances back over at him. "Hurt you?" he says, amazed. "I was just wondering why you weren't like the other Quintessons. And why you're on Earth. I really promise I'm not trying to do anything mean like that! Hey, we could be friends," he says cheerfully, trying to soothe Apocryphacious' frayed nerves. He then looks over at Ford, a little worried. However, there is a more pressing question on his mind. "Is your hover cycle a loyal and willing sl-er, servant?" he asks innocently. Repugnus, after hearing that Apocryphacius had recovered from his injuries, had been hoping to "intercept" him at some point while he was wandering about, and maybe, hopefully, catch him alone and out of sight of a security camera. And here comes the Monsterbot now, poking his head around a wall or entrance or whatever is suitable. There he is. Oh, nuts. Tons of witnesses. Repugnus scowls. Ford offers up an arm to Apocryphacius casually, as if such injuries were common place or trivial. "Knock yourself out." Looking up at Blurr and than back at Apocryphacius, he quirks an eyebrow. "Nervous? ...about what? They're Autobots, they're... well, I can't say they're the most alert or gentle all the time, but they aren't out to get you like the Cons." Ford raised an eyebrow at the Quint. "...am I gonna have to put you through the Benett School of Confidence and Pride? You'll appreciate it, I can assure that. Before long, you'll be as casual and assertive a suave gentleman as... well, as me!" Ford looked back at Tailgate and his inquiry, before looking over at his cycle. Back to Tailgate. "Well, considering she's unable to speak, or think, or... you know, exist like one of you guys, yeah, I'd say she's pretty loyal and willing." Apocryphacius explains dully, because apparently no one can be bothered to read his dossier, "I came to life in a spaceship crash on Earth in the 1940s. I grew up around humans. They later offered me a choice: join the EDC or go hide in space." He chose unwisely. "Right now, there is a death sentence on my head, to be carried out in 2181. Until then, I still serve the EDC. I think that should answer your questions, Autobot Tailgate?" Apocryphacius takes swabs from Ford's scratches for culturing, so he can check and make sure that Ford is not infected with something weird, such an EVIL DECEPTICON COYOTE BIOWEAPON. Then he cleans out the wounds and dresses them with antibotics and bandages. The thing is, well, the Autobots /are/ out to get Apocryphacius (some of them are), but he does not tell Ford this. It's not like anyone would believe him. Apocryphacius simply excuses, "I am a coward. Particularly a moral coward, but a coward in general. You need not worry about my fears, irrational as they may be... 'Ford'." Blurr just shakes his head at Apocryphacius. Sure, -he's- allowed to act all nervous around Autobots, but when he's distrustful of the Quint, -that's- frowned upon? "A coward, huh? Well, maybe you should work on -not- being a coward or something, instead of embracing it as part of yourself." He doesn't yet notice Repugnus poking his head out from behind a wall, but looks pointedly at Tailgate. "I need to go over a few briefing details with you." And inspect the bomb he's made. "You've got the explosives ready, right?" "Explosives?" Repugnus says, limping towards the group. "What are they for?" He glances down at Tailgate. "You make 'em to blow up a used car dealer for trafficking in slaves? Better not, because slavery is legal on Earth. In parts. Heh." He grunts as he tries to move his body forward, every servo feeling like it's on fire. The pain he can deal with, though--just not the crippling damage. "Enf. But seriously. What's the explosives for?" He pointedly doesn't look at Apocryphacius. Maybe to avoid betraying any sign of his intent to murder. Apocryphacius could explain that he /has/ been working on his cowardice. He hasn't been running away screaming when he sees an Autobot, like he used to. He hasn't had to result to wearing dark welding goggles when he sees an Autobot, like he used to. Apocryphacius has been trying diligently to become more comfortable around Autobots, despite their distinct tendency to try to murder him. He could explain all that. He just... cannot bring himself to bother. Everyone is going to find excuses to despise him, anyway. He's tried before, in the past. He's tried so hard. For now, he has given up. Then his faces switch around, and he takes a moment to study Repugnus quietly.
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