#intelite

He had gotten away with sticking primarily to Archimedes the last time he had been on the island, but now that he’s back and running more than just his bar, it had seemed important for him to get a better sense of Spirale as a whole. He needs to be fully informed if he is to adequately answer any newcomer questions, after all, and he needs the personal experience in order to help guide them when it comes to making suggestions about which locations they ought to explore.

...and which they ought to avoid, as the case may be.

Crimson Lane is not Blurr’s idea of a good time. He’s seen his fair share of corruption throughout the galaxy, but it’s usually come with the reassuring knowledge that he was there to ensure that corruption didn’t spread.

It’s one thing to endure undercover work when you know the arms-dealers and smugglers you’re mingling with will be arrested within the deca-cycle. It’s quite another to drive slowly through the darkened streets of Spirale’s criminal underground without so much as a pair of stasis cuffs in your storage compartments.

He’s about to head home-- he’s seen all he needs to, and the trek back to Fibonacci will be slow and boring now that he’s run down his limited use of his speed. Before he can, however, he catches movement at he periphery of his sensors. The situation seems quite obvious even from afar; it’s one against... quite a few more than one, and the outnumbered party appears to be in far from perfect health already.

Blurr doesn’t waste time considering his options.

A faint roar of his engine is all the warning the organics get before a sleek-looking car is barreling straight into the narrow side alley, startling the group of thugs loosely-circling the lone young man. The vehicle screeches to a halt seconds before it can collide with anyone, and the group gives another round of shocked yells and “what the fuck?”s as plating shifts smoothly into the form of a towering bipedal.

The Autobot looks down at them with a hard, unreadable expression, but when he speaks, it’s obvious his question is meant not for the gaggle of goons in front of him but instead for the man they had had cornered.

He likes fast cars and curry. Well, to be more accurate he enjoys classic cars. And this thing was on the far end of the opposite side of the spectrum. But he could still appreciate it. In the absence of one, there was the presence of the other, and he had to hand it to whoever drove this aerodynamic thing- it was pretty sick.

He'd spotted the vehicle now and again whenever he checked his mailbox, which was always empty. That made sense. Who was writing him in some city full of strangers? But never had he run into the neighbor. It wasn't always parked in the same spot, so surely someone drove that great hunk of metal. Whoever it is, they probably someone who pulls massive babes. Lucky bastard.

Or maybe an unlucky bastard? While he was busy shuffling through his nonexistent stack of mail, he spotted an air valves lying on the asphalt, no doubt slowly leaking air out of the tire. Since he was such a good samaritan, he may as well screw it back on. It was simple enough, though he felt a little bit bad about touching something that wasn't his. But all in the name of good intention, right?

She’s heard of NO-EC through this device in which people called...cellphone. According to some of the people, it was short for a cellular device. Strange. Regardless, that’s how she ends up at the building. It’s overwhelming, just like the rest of Isola. She isn’t exactly sure what she’s looking for, but maybe learning more about this place will be a start. 

She slowly comes to a stop. She nearly just walks right by this giant robotic being thinking that it was a strange statue. When the robot moves, she looks up at them. 

In almost all situations, Marie could usually be described as the textbook definition of calm, cool and collected. She was excellent at keeping her emotions in check, or at the very least, preventing them from bleeding out into her actions or even into her tone of voice. Even when her cousin had vanished seemingly without a trace, as terrifying as that had been for her in truth, she had kept things appearing rather calm to those looking at her from the outside. To her, it made life more manageable. It allowed her to approach things with clarity and a sense of purpose, even when her entire world felt like it was falling apart in front of her very eyes.

Today, however, was different.

Even before she had actually opened her eyes to look around, she had felt like something was deeply wrong here; she felt misplaced, somehow. So it hadn’t taken very long for panic to indeed strike hot through her like a live wire when she did open her eyes and discovered that she was laying right next to what appeared to be a gigantic, bottomless pit.

Even so, she fought to maintain a relatively cool expression as she scrambled backwards away from the hole- and almost directly into the way of oncoming traffic, a mistake that she quickly realized she had just made as cars screeched to a halt to try and avoid hitting her. What in the name of the Great Zapfish-?

She could feel her hearts pounding in her chest already as she stood and quickly got off the road, glancing around herself in a desperate attempt to try and make heads or tails out of the unexpected situation. Really, though, all she could see was a landscape that seemed entirely foreign to her, as well as other people who looked just as lost and confused as she did--

OH! Wasn’t that...huh, so they brought him back.  Although they never interacted, Klaus has seen him around before. Just briefly, but it was still enough to leave a mark on him. So he approaches, a hand waving in an unsure manner. 

MOST of the time.

❝ya AIN'T with them?❞ he half states, half asks. a CAUTIOUS look over the inorganic being, gun-arm not quite raised, yet locked and loaded. 

the ‘them’ in question is a band of petty criminals hot on his trail, folks who fail to take kindly to his efforts to make the island a better - and CLEANER - location. his purpose having been wrenched from beneath his feet, barret feels sufficiently put out by the need to expel his energy - in WHATEVER way possible. 

he's never been one for being QUIET.

❝best duck down an' hide -- they're PISSED.❞

He’s seen a lot of vehicles. Even ones that looked super fancy, but this? Sun hasn’t seen ANYTHING like this before. He’s never sensed anything strange from any of those moving cars before either. Sun is curious, but he’s hesitant as he approaches with caution. A hand is placed on the sleek blueish vehicle. 

“!!” Eyes widens and his tail curls around as the Monkey man scurries back, knuckles back onto concrete as golden eyes are locked on the unmoving vehicle. 

💛 💜 ❤️ || she's been around enough to REMEMBER who or what she's crossed paths with before. it isn't a new occasion, meeting up with individuals she's already met before, and the sensation most likely would not ease any time soon. hard gaze is FIXATED upon the other; she's not bound to forget someone with such striking mechanical features any time soon. lips press into a thin line as she PEEKS up over the rim of her book.