re_alignment | [Video]

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[There is a view...of the sky. As nice a shot it is, it doesn't last for long. Because this is actually coming from a certain protocol droid who finds himself in a terrible situation.]

Artoo! Artoo, help me!

[Oh boy. What is it this time? The little astromech trundles over towards the edge of what looks like steps better suited for Cybertronian use. He whistles lowly as he peers down.

From where he now lay, C-3PO waves his arms helplessly. He sounds both indignant and worried.]

Must I repeat myself? Just help me up!

[Artoo beeps flatly, his dome swiveling slightly to look around before he rolls away from the edge. Oh look Threepio, he's leaving you.

...just kidding. He's just going to take another route down- namely that handy ramp on the opposite side.]

Where are you going– oh. Well, all right. Go ahead and take your time, I have nowhere I need to be right now.

How was I suppose to know what you meant by this step being a "doozy?" I don't even know what that word means! I've never heard of it before. Not even when I was first programmed, I'm sure!

[He's taking his sweet time, trundling on down until comes up beside the fallen protocol droid, twittering almost amusedly.]

Yes, laugh it all up, you bucket of bolts. At the speed you were going, you could have been here by this time tomorrow and just as useless.

[Artoo halts at that, and then does an about-face, starting to roll off in the opposite direction with what might amount to an electronic huff.

At this, Threepio flails.]

Wait! Artoo, wait – I didn't mean it! Don't leave me here! Who knows what lurks around the area!

[It takes a moment, but the little droid does return, treating Threepio to a smattering of beeps and chirps. After assessing the other droid's situation, he promptly pops out a welding arm so that he can set to making the necessary repairs.

Really now, Threepio, those legs of yours come off way too easily.]

Oh thank goodness. The sooner we get this done, the faster we can– ow! Be careful with that! Haven't you ever heard of being gentle when you do these things? I still need to walk, you know!

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((ooc: --pretend the dialogue is a video reply. XD;;;Either way, so excited! Been meaning to throw my pup at you two for a while now. <3 <3 <3))

[Thundercracker caught the video on his communicator. Once there's more than sky to see, he realizes he knows where the strange – and noisy – little golden mech is. He's actually not far from there, either. Soaring in alt-mode, the blue F-15 Eagle banks, swinging around in the air currents to head that way. ]

[Enjoy the roar of an approaching jet fighter, guys! As the Seeker nears their position, he loses altitude fast, nosecone angled down and wingflaps flexed. He'll keep enough courtesy about him to land several yards away, pulling up at literally last minute and transforming to land on his feet in root-mode. A twenty-foot-tall mechanoid approaches and crouches on a knee, looking the two over.]

You complain like a Decepticon. [Except Decepticons – well, most of them – at least have the presence of mind to wait until AFTER their rescuer is done helping them before they really start with the insults. He shakes his head.] Do you need a medic?

[The astromech pauses after another touch of his welder to Threepio's wiring and leg joint, beeping in mild alarm at the sight of the odd looking aircraft. When it transforms he can't help but whistle- that's a neat trick. True there are droids that shift forms back in their galaxy but not quite like that.

When Thundercracker approaches, Artoo gets on the defensive, bwaating flatly, welding arm waving about. What do you think he's doing right now, huh? Definitely not celebrating the Fourth of July!]

[Threepio's head swivels, startled to hear a voice that comes from seemingly nowhere. It isn't until he hears and almost feels the aircraft-turned-transformer touch down, yelping in surprise with another flail of his arms.]

Oh! Oh my– we're all right! This little droid is trying to fix it right now, in fact!

[He then hastily adds:]

Please don't hurt us.

Edited 2013-05-03 00:58 (UTC)

[Thundercracker eyes the little…okay, not a drone, the thing's showing too much personality and self-awareness, even if it doesn't seem capable of normal speech and he can't sense a spark in the thing. Can't sense one from the golden mech either, so… He gives a flat look to match that flat bwaating – he can't understand the thing, but he catch the gist of tone well enough – then rolls his optics at the golden one's last comment.]

If I was going to hurt you, I'd have done it by now. Besides, wouldn’t be a good idea if I want to keep this. [He taps a badge on his chest.] I'm with the police force here. The idea is we protect mechs from those who'd attack and harm them for no reason. [Never mind that they seemed to be kind of failing at that…]

My designation is Thundercracker. You two seem to know each other pretty well. You're from the same Timestream?

Edited 2013-05-12 01:29 (UTC)

[His dome swiveling so he can fix his optical lens in a better angle to view that badge, Artoo whistles. He seems to calm down a little, although Threepio might get an unintentional zap with the welding torch as he's no paying attention, whoops.

As to the question following Thundercracker's introduction, the droid chirps an affirmative.]

[Threepio whirrs as he pauses, letting that sink in for a moment. His hands and arms slowly come down, head canting as far as it can possibly go while turning his attention back to the Decepticon.]

Well. That's worse. When it's like that, you never know when someone is plotting to strike or not– ouch! [His head turns sharply back toward the astromech.] R2-D2, watch where you're pointing that thing!

[He sighs.] Do excuse my counterpart and traveling companion, Sir Thundercracker. He obviously has a mind of his own. My name is C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. That is to say, I am a protocol droid fluent in over six million forms of communication. Acting as an interpreter and a mediator is part of my listed duties. And this, as I have mentioned earlier, is my counterpart, R2-D2, a clumsy and irate little astromech droid who is useful when he needs to be.

Edited 2013-05-12 06:14 (UTC)

[The title takes him a little off-guard. He waves a hand.]

No "sir". Just Thundercracker's fine. And I can see that. [crooked, amused grin at that.]

Protocol? So . . . like working around cultural differences? Do you normally work in politics or something?

Why, naturally, sir.

[Nope, not giving up that formality any time soon.]

Assisting in such is what I am programmed to do. In my humble opinion, it is a better option than the physical violence some tend to fall back on.

[Oh brother. Well, while Threepio is talking it up, Artoo's just going to reattach that leg of his.]

[The Seeker can't help quirking a bit of a grin.]

"Humble" opinion? [Why does he get the impression you're anything but humble, Goldibot? He nods a little absently at the rest.] Old habits can be hard to break for some, I guess.

[He's one to talk. As a Seeker and one of his faction's elite, Thundercracker is a very old war veteran whose sole purpose for ever having been built to begin with was to fulfill a military capacity. But . . . as much as Thundercracker enjoys fighting as often as not, as much as he is VERY VERY GOOD at what he does . . . he also appreciates the opportunity he has here, in Haven, to choose whether or not to fight. So . . . he just nods.]

We have a law committee that several people are trying to form. Have you thought about contacting them to put your skills to use? Seems like something they might find helpful.

[And he can't help looking at the little . . . what did C-3PO call him? An "astromech"? He wouldn't have thought that a mech without proper hands could perform medical procedures. Well, not until Glit anyway. Wasn't that long ago that the medi-cat had given him a full diagnostic and even some much-needed deep cleaning.]

So . . . your companion. He's an "astromech", you said? Is that some kind of medic in your world?

[He is quite humble. At least he thinks he is.]

No, I don't believe I've ever heard anything of the sort. [Probably because he didn't ask. And the first few people that have talked to him never mentioned it.] However, I feel that it would be good to look into it. Having some form of order put into place is fine by me, especially when star systems tend to have no sense of lawfulness.

A medic? I suppose he can be seen as such. He specializes in repairing machinery and droids, sir. I'm afraid he cannot do the same with humans or other organic species.

[The droid twitters, perhaps confirming Threepio's brief explanation. He's been referred to as a medic by some of the residents here already, so to hear it come up again isn't entirely strange.]

Hmn. Yeah, sounds like that'd be a good fit for you then, if you're interested. I don't know who's heading it, or heading the attempt at finalizing its formation, but you might contact McCrane. He'd know. Or . . . Cody. He's the secretary, I guess, for the police force and what there is so far of the law committee.

[He quirks a grin, thinking these two have probably been around organics too much.]

That's what a medic is. Organics call their equivalent "doctors". [His helm tilts a bit at a thought.] Well . . . not so much for machinery, that'd be an engineer, but medics care for mechs. And . . . I guess droids. What is a droid, exactly? You don't have a spark that I can tell, so I want to call you a drone, but you have the obvious sentience of a mechanoid. [Then again, so do McCrane and the others from his timestream – it occurs to Thundercracker that he's never gotten around to asking the same question of any of them. He makes a mental note to do that.]

Sir McCrane or Sir Cody...I will indeed see to contacting them some time soon. Perhaps for some more information, as you have already said.

Oh, I see. Different terminology can create some air of confusion. I do keep forgetting we aren't working within the standards of our systems. A droid, Sir Thundercracker, is just that, really – machinery and parts built and created to assist humans and other alien species with many tasks. Although we are programmed, there is always a range of sentience present. I do have to admit that some of us do act like drones, but that doesn't mean we all are.

[While he listens, Artoo finishes welding wires and things back in place. That shoooould do it. He chirps at Threepio, his welding arm folding back in as he swivels his lens back towards Thundercracker.]

[That all still sounded like a drone to him, but as the little mech - droid - has pointed out . . . terminology. He wouldn't press it. He nods as R2-D2 chirps and closes up.]

Looks like your buddy's finished.

Here's the contact information for McCrane.

[He pings C-3PO's comm. Or tries, anyway.]

He is? [C-3PO checks, craning his neck to see that the work was, indeed, done.] Oh, splendid, Artoo! I am fully functional again! I would have been stuck here forever if it weren't for you.

[His attention is then taken back with the sudden blipping noise emitting from his arm. That comm is sneaky and it surprises him.]

–Oh my! Thank you, Sir Thundercracker.

[Warble. Well of course you would, Threepio. You're helpless otherwise, really.]

Primus, I liked it better when drones couldn't talk.

I beg your pardon?? We are droids!

[He looks to Artoo, sounding indignant.]

How rude. He thinks us mere drones!

[The astromech beeps pointedly. Threeps, you're the only one talking here, technically.]

Either way: annoying.

I like this little one better.

What? Just because I can speak doesn't mean I'm the only one he is talking to–

[He pauses to look back at Starscream.]

–Why, I never!

[The sounds emitting from Artoo sound suspiciously like a chuckle.]

I'm sure you never shut up.

If you mean "always open and available for communication purposes," then no, I don't. It is part of my programming.

[Yes, he's offended, but the little astromech gets the nonexistent pointed look.]

[Twittering in amusement at the Cybertronian's observation, the astromech then swivels a look towards Threepio with a blunt-sounding noise that could easily be translated as "What."]

Do you have an 'off' switch?

I'll deal with you later.

[Back to Starscream.]

Of course I have an 'off' switch.

[Artoo whistles. He half wonders if Threepio would actually tell someone where his off switch is.]

There's easy access to it, I hope.

If there wasn't, then it would have been considered a flaw in the design– wait a minute, why am I even telling you this?

[Oh good, he doesn't have to intervene. See, Threepio's smart.]

I think your whole form is a flaw in design.

My word! We protocol droids were meant to be designed this way for exactly that purpose. If we had anything else, we wouldn't be protocol droids!

[He huffs, turning to Artoo again.]

Now that is what I call rude.

[Artoo twitters at Threepio. Aw, don't let the strange droid get you down, man. What's he know anyway?]

Seems a little boring to just stick to your purpose, doesn't it?

I wouldn't think so. That is, after all, what I was programmed to do.

[He whistles in semi-agreement, knowing that he's strayed from original purpose more than a few times himself.]

[This is the moment he's been waiting for.

The perfect riffopportunity.

Now is his moment to shine--too bad he's banged up.]

...ok who gave George Lucas the rights to this place?

What is this an amusement park?

[Oh goodness. Threepio stares for a moment, quirking a bit.]

Come again? According to my memory banks, we know no one by that name. Or anything about an amusement park, for that matter. There certainly isn't anything amusing here.

[Artoo pauses from his soldering to chirp inquiringly. More so in wonder of what the heck that thing is over what it was talking about.]

[Alright Crow, this is your moment to shine.]

Well see George Lucas is a fearsome robot hunter who lived in the Dagobah system. He hunts them down and then eats their metal.

Good thing you never heard of him cause those who seem him never live to tell the tale.

Why, he must be a droid of some sort, Artoo. With information about our world, obviously.

[While he sounds incredulous, the protocol droid still sounds worried, jerkily lifting his arms a few inches.]

Oh, how horrible! That is, if this were true...

[He totally doesn't believe this. Nope. Yes. Wait.]

[Judging from the flat-tone of his beeps, it doesn't seem like the astromech is quite buying into Crow's explanation.]

You bet your little trash can body it's true.

[You should totally believe him.]

Why, one time he even threatened to steal Lifeday!

This is preposterous. I've never heard of anyone threatening Lifeday.

You're a rather confusing little thing. How do you know all of this?

[He has to agree with Threepio on that, twittering bluntly. How can you steal a holiday, even?]

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[Action] - Dammit, Life, SHTAWP! ...okay, I think it's calmed donwn again finally...OTL

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