Hardshell

/It wasn’t hard to take the lead in this race, so on purpose he slows down a bit to not lose the others out of his sight. He could see Fearstorm slowly trudging through the sand and his partner was somewhere completely in the back./

-Knock Out shouts at his wheels, rotating them at full horsepower. For all his effort he barely moves forward a considerable distance - if anything he’s making backward progress, insttead. Noticing this, he tries going in reverse - a little better, but again - the displacement is negligible.

Oh for fu-?

-Oh? Oh! Just as he was about to give up, slowing down gives him the traction necessary to roll forward an impressive yard forward.

That’s more like it!

He doesn’t stay startled for long, though, giving his engine a bass-deep thrum of enthusiasm. “Right on, Insecticon!” 

Knock Out, by that point, has worked out how to handle this sandy, shifting terrain, and pulls well ahead of Fearstorm, who doesn’t seem to mind bringing up the rear. He soon adapts his driving when he sees how Knock Out generates traction, though he doesn’t snake back and forth quite as gracefully as the smaller, lighter vehicle. 

Could ‘lways bet chores~ I ‘ave few I’d gladly get rid off!

/He roared quietly, rocking a bit in place restlessly wanting to get off already. The sight of more drones made him just more giddy for the race. For a change they will eat his dust!/

-He shifts his wheels, trying to get his tires to grip the slippery sand underneath. No such luck - his thin, hard, flat treads just weren’t designed for this particular surface. He adjusts his side mirrors, to see how the competition might fare (and in particular, admire Breakdown’s specialised tires). He straightens his alignment as soon as all the mechs that might join them have gathered.

I mean, I could use a break from the med-bay. So … deal’s on-

-With that he gives a long honk and accelerates, starting the race off with a dramatic …. shower of sand, billowing to either side. Did he just move slightly backwards?

As such, his reaction time isn’t what it could be, and he does not immediately attempt to surge forward when Knock Out tries to begin the race, flinging sand everywhere. Instead he stalls for a moment, somewhat startled, before realization sinks in. He revs his engines and sets his tires spinning, kicking up a healthy bit of sand, but not skidding quite as badly as Knock Out, before he begins to surge forward.

His tires are less specialized for racing and built more for durability, but nowhere near as suited for this sort of driving as Breakdown’s. He’s also heavier than both of them, much heavier, so his acceleration is poor. Still, this means, at the very least, he isn’t going to immediately skid out of control, and while he might be hefty, he has an engine powerful enough to move all that mass. 

He crouches forward and unfurls his wings, producing a loud buzzing sound as he flapped them faster and faster. Quickly, Hardshell lifted off of the sand, swaying back and forth in the air. The Insecticon continued to chuckle as he attempted to steady himself and slowly inched forward, as if testing out how well he could fly. 

Then Skyquake speaks to him again, Fearstorm looks over. “Yeah. The loyalty coding is kinda… it was laid in differently for each of us, but it’s solid with me. I pretty much need to obey, but there are safeguards. If an officer is hurting me, I can defend myself, and if I’m ordered to do something fishy or really obviously and lethally dumb, I can refuse.” He trusts Skyquake with this information. The other officer is a good and loyal Decepticon and has no reason to harm his underlings. 

Fearstorm’s biggest wiggle room stems from his definition of the word “hurt.” He is a well-behaved drone, even under the command of officers he doesn’t particularly like, but he is able to strike back if suitably prevoked with little pretense, and it would be unwise to incur the sudden and unexpected wrath of a mech so big. Of course, none of this applies to Lord Megatron. Lord Megatron could order Fearstorm to shoot himself in the face, and he would probably do it.

The return of Hardshell is a decidedly odd event. Fearstorm watches the enormous insecticon curiously. Is he… is he purring? Before the drone can listen more carefully the fearsome mech is wriggling around on the ground. It’s all quite daft and Fearstorm has no idea what to make of it. Bewildered, he decides not to mention it. He had absolutely no idea how he should act in the presence of a superior behaving this way.

But then Knock Out is speaking and Fearstorm immediately looks in his direction, his visor flickering. Knock Out is looking back at him, and Fearstorm allows his engine to give an eager rev. It’s an understandably deep sound, coming as it does from so large a mech. He would normally never be so bold as to invite himself into the recreational activities of a superior, but he’s had two cubes of high grade and a race sounds like a fantastic idea.

He blinks at Fearstorm and doesn’t say much from it. Okay… It didn’t seem like he liked Balo too much but that was …okay. He lets the big bull down onto the floor as he sits obediently next to him. Grabbing a regular cube and setting it in front of him. 

Huh? A race?

/His partners teasing nudges finally got his attention. Bruiser sipped from his cube glancing over to the red medic and enormous vehicon./

'Ere? /He chuckled./ Why? Think ya can beat me on sand?

/While Knock Out was a self proclaimed king of the highways, once they stepped down to more uneven terrain or worse, sand, it was Breakdown’s domain. And he loved driving in the sand or crashing into it, maybe it was just a nature of all mechs possessing all-terrain vehicles as an alt-form./

Only if you’ll take it.

-He smirks crudely at the vehicon, before turning his eager and slightly tipsy attention onto his … Primus couldn’t describe what he felt for Breakdown right now, not after those words. The medic’s long fingers hook into the convenient slots on his assistant’s plating, idle for the moment. What a magnificent, cocky-bastard.

Don’t … don’t think you can write me out of the competition just yet~!

-Rather affectionately, he chides the other, then tugs the blue mech down by his breast-plating so that their optics were more or less level. Then, without warning, he lets out a chortle, his red gaze scanning over Fearstorm, then back to Breakdown.

You know … I’d be honored to race two such … ‘extraordinary’ mechs, however - a thought just came to me~

-He leans over to whisper his idea against Breakdown’s audial, the ends of his lips just barely able to keep from curling upwards.

… tell me what you think - no. Tell him what you think, partner~

"If any officers are dumb enough to hurt you, you have my permission to defend yourself against them, by any means necessary," he says.  Fearstorm obviously has a much higher tolerance for abuse from officers than Skyquake.  He himself only tolerated such behavior from Megatron, and he felt if his master was disappointed in him, it was more than likely deserved.

His focus is turned from the conversation to Hardshell, now rolling in the sand.  Skyquake watches him with amusement for several moments, chuckling to himself.  It makes him think of the afternoon he and Dreadwing spent sparring on the sand.  His swordfighting skills had been rusty at best, and Dreadwing seemed to be taking it easy on him.  The two wound up in the sand regardless, much to Dreadwing’s disapproval.

"Fearstorm could beat you easily," he murmured before making a loud series of short, hiccup-like sounds. 

"Trash the halls with parts and bodies!

WALALALALALALALALA!”

Crimson optics narrowed slightly before he huffed out, ‘finally’. Starscream walked back over to the terminal and after a few keystrokes he looked back to Breakdown then to the two swapped Decepticons that were laying down. He regarded the medic’s assistant with a short nod before he activated the cortical psychic patch.

"What?" Hardshell asked suddenly and glanced around. It seemed…empty and dark. He raised his servos up for a moment and tilted his head, slightly surprised to see his own claws again. Did this mean that the cortical physic patch worked then? 

…

-It felt … stranger than a groundbridge, that was for sure. Grabbing his helm he felt around for the CPP, only to …

Ha!

-His mind, ah! He didn’t have to deal with any strange anatomy in here! Clasping his hands together he appreciated the feel of his dextrous, capable fingers for a moment before gazing up, seeing Hardshell right across from him, some distance away. Right … Walking towards him, he expects that they have to go in opposite ways to restore themselves, but before he can find anything out-!?

What the …!

-He peeps, clutching his face after it hits something. But what, when there was nothing in front of him? He looks at the Insecticon just to the side of him with a glare, thinking perhaps the other was reluctant to trade back and had blocked him before striding forward again, with purpose-!?

-stop that!

Errr… Starscream, Sir. /He broke the silence awkwardly looking at the flier with a more warm tone of voice than before./ Thanks fer ‘elpin’ out. I mean it. Without’cha it’d just be a bigger mess.

/The Wrecker smiled sheepishly, in hope that a little bit of friendliness will help both of them feel slightly better about this whole situation. He was about to add something else, maybe a joke to try lighten the mood further, when he noticed some distressing pop ups flash on the surface of the terminal./

What th-

/He quickly moved closer, moving the flier slightly aside to read the flashing errors. The readings were dropping down out of a sudden and they weren’t just de-syncing, they were cutting off. One by one the open channels in the mental bridge were disappearing and that couldn’t end well. He snatched the nearest medical datapad and rushed to check the vitals./

Fraggin’ pits! They gonna fell into a coma if we dun’ turn this off!

/Or worse. Breakdown wasn’t really a specialist on this subject, but he remembered reading about this in the medical files. The errors in procedures like this often ended up in comas. The mind was a very delicate thing and any bigger disruptions might cause system shutdowns. What to do?! He felt like his own mind was all over the place. What would Knock Out do?/

Screw that!!

"....It is not me," he answered calmly as his claw was stopped by some sort of force field. He gently pushed against it before raising his arm up to strike against it. It would not budge...

"I do not understand! Shockwave's creations have never failed before!" he hissed in annoyance and glanced around. 

Suddenly, as if the whole world was...dissolving away, Hardshell glanced around warily, watching, unsure of what was happening. 

...

He blinked and looked around, slowly coming to. He felt so groggy; it almost felt like he was going to purge as a result.

Again?! -Hardshell cursed as he fell through and landed on the ground at the other end with a less than graceful thump. He sighed and looked around, rubbing his large claws together. The last time he was away because of one of the tears, his whole Hive became infected.-

-Suddenly, Hardshell heard an explosion close by and looked around expectantly. Enemies? Following the explosion, he saw an unfamiliar frame soar through the air, flying at his direction. He frowned and held up his arms, catching the odd looking Cybertronian and placed them down afterwards.-

He has nothing to say in regards to Hardshell’s statement to Dreadwing and Skyquake, and instead focuses on finishing off his cube. The drone seems happy merely to stand there, his EM field thrumming with a growing sense of calm contentment as the high grade works its way through his systems. It isn’t just the warmth of the potent brew that pleases him, it’s the sensation of a full tank. He glances over to Hardshell as the Insecticon announces his departure, and nods. 

He glances back over to Skywarp, his visor flickering. If he’d had eyes, he probably would have been narrowing them suspiciously at that moment. “What is that thing, anyway?” He asks, gesturing to Balo.

"I guess you can say that." He shrugs, "Thundercracker finds it hilarious..at times." He turns his attention to Knockout. Actually he could contain his warping abilities but if he so happened to be thinking of it and actually initiate it then it would happen… Maybe a nervous tick or something in his systems might bug it out for him to warp randomly. It didn’t happen to often. 

"its easier to control than you think." His helm tilts, "Without what? Knowing?" Shrugs, "If I think about it then I do, even in sleep I can.." Being drunk? Not so much, maybe once or twice, he made sure he was careful about that.

When they get on talking about Starscream, Skywarp just falls quiet and starts paying attention to Balo. Sure, Starscream had done many things he shouldn’t have… but he never used to be like that. Sure the power was something he had, maybe he missed it? Who knows but he saw the true side of Starscream that no one would ever get to know besides him and Thundercracker. He sighs quietly and pets Balo, feeling outnormously uncomfortable to the point that he feels like leaving this group…

His attention is caught yet again, “Huh? Balo?” He said it already but he’s willing to say it again… “Its an Arms Micron. Little robotic companions to help with battle and or other such necessities. He helps me with battles and drilling.” He…had a lot in his storage…perhaps he could give one if he found the right companions but he wasn’t too keen on some of them… If they got on his good side, perhaps he would be willing to give one away. Fearstorm seemed like a reasonable mech and so did Knockout with his medical work. “Each has a different personality and forms. They’re quite nice to have for company, if you need it.”

/Blue mech followed the Insecticon with his gaze, letting out another amused snort./

'Ope 'e get knocked out soon, it'd be a shame if we'd ran out of booze.

Getting sliced in half - there’s got to be a safeguard in place, no? I mean, otherwise … it’s impossible for two ‘things’ to occupy the same dimensional space. Or something like that.

-Feeling a bit charged up from the high grade, Knock Out starts to feel restless; he looks around. Some of the drones appeared to have split into groups to play their own little social games.

I’d kill for a race right about now.

He glanced back to the others and slowly made his way back.

"I'm back!" he boomed in greeting before laughing and making his way through the small crowd. 

He made soft purrs as he stood by Fearstorm, but soon he decided to sit on the ground instead. He crouched down, with a very wobbly stance and dug two spots out lay his highgrade cubes in the sand. After sitting down and grooming his face for a moment. He picked up one cube and began to drink from it eagerly, pausing only to poke the sand with curiosity. He pushed his cubes away and began to roll around in the oddly soft material. 

I ain’t trustin’ ‘nythin’ that ‘as to do with that gorram creep! But… /He moved closer and picked up the cables laying on the floor with a frown./ … seems like we dun’ really ‘ave ‘ny brighter ideas.

/He inspected the patch briefly. As much he possessed some knowledge about the whole process he never was present during the procedures, so he didn’t exactly knew how to use this bloody thing. But maybe…/

Starscream had something of a science background but he knew neither Breakdown or Knock Out knew that about him. Even if Hardshell trusted Shockwave, which was foolish, Starscream did not. He did not trust that this would work and it was a waste of time but he did not care to deal with Knock Out in such a state any longer so here he was taking the psychic patch from Breakdown.

There was no way this was going to work.

Uh… might sting a bit? Sorry.

/Breakdown frowned apologizing in advance for the inconvenience and attached the cable to back of his helm, in the same way he saw Starscream do it. He was anxious about performing this without Knock Out actually supervising the process, but he’ll have to trust the ex-SIC. After all, he knew what he was doing… right?/

Crimson optics narrowed slightly before he huffed out, ‘finally’. Starscream walked back over to the terminal and after a few keystrokes he looked back to Breakdown then to the two swapped Decepticons that were laying down. He regarded the medic’s assistant with a short nod before he activated the cortical psychic patch.

"What?" Hardshell asked suddenly and glanced around. It seemed...empty and dark. He raised his servos up for a moment and tilted his head, slightly surprised to see his own claws again. Did this mean that the cortical physic patch worked then? 

alpha-insecticon said: …N-no! I didn’t mean it like that. They are a part of Insecticon life! They aren’t meant…only…for that!

They can help to scratch one another because they are so sharp...but really when one wins, they will rub their scent over the loser. It's more of rubbing it in that the victor won and it is a way to temporarily humiliate the loser.

alpha-insecticon said: …N-no! I didn’t mean it like that. They are a part of Insecticon life! They aren’t meant…only…for that!

alpha-insecticon replied to your post: Insecticon Prickles.

They aren’t a waste of time. They are vital to Insecticon life.