re_alignment | [audio]

Does anybody have a fraggin' flamethrower or somethin'? It's getting harder to-- Gah!

[Does Cliffjumper sound frustrated? Yes, he does. Harried and slightly... on-edge, to be honest. Accompanying that are pinging, crunching noices and a lot of high-pitch babble or laughter.

Anyone actually listening to what those multitude of high-pitch voices are saying, will find it's all rather... disturbing in nature. This is the third time Cliffjumper's personal little horde of stick-figure SG!Primes have respawned, and he's having trouble luring them through lava to get rid of them.

And contrary to popular thought, he's not made of weapons. Especially not a flame-thrower, as he noticed they didn't take well to the lava when he accidentally managed to lob some of them in there during the first time they appeared.]

Pit-spawned, sludge-spewing little monsters!

[Something like the noise of glass breaking briefly takes over the feed, but Cliffjumper really can't figure out why some of them sort of breaks sometimes, like shooting or punching metal affected by glass gas does.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Normally, of course, Cliffjumper would be right. Luckily for him, this particular Decepticon tended to be more pragmatic than many of his faction.]

[Thundercracker arrived, circling once as he got a feel for the situation and decided how best to work himself into it to greater effect. Finally, he dropped altitude, transforming and landing at last minute, strategically placed.]

Move, Autobot.

[He didn't wait for confirmation before turning his back and transforming again, facing away and resting on his tires. The next instant, though, saw him folding his landing gear so that he dropped down onto his belly on the ground - his nosecone was somewhat resting between boulders as he did so (it would also help him from skidding forward from the force of his afterburners). That put his thrusters on the same level as the tiny attackers. Flexing his ailerons and tailfin to help further stabilize him, he kicked his afterburners into overdrive, spitting huge gouts of flames from his thrusters that burned scores of the little miscreants as they ran by.]

[Oh, he'll move, all right. Also swear because frag, just his luck. Always the biggest ones, and he doesn't really know about the pragmatic part.

The Thundercracker he knows best is the one from the negative polarity one, and she's not sure where the similarities intersect.]

Yeah, yeah, moving---

[He'd snap something about not telling him what to do, but he's tired, frazzled and frustrated, and really does need help, since he hasn't been able to find a flamethrower or anything similar in the Junk Pile.

So he just weaves about, keeping the little monsters focused on him before sharply veering out of the way at the last possible moment. But then, he's fast, so cutting it close doesn't bother him.

And there's something deeply satisfying in seeing them burn.]

[Thundercracker's half-surprised the Minibot doesn't snap something for "ordering" him like that. Really, though, it was just easier and faster to direct him than try to explain anything.]

[The sustained burn at that level threatened to damage some of his systems, but not so much that his ARS couldn't handle it given a bit of time. He maintained the level of output for another few minutes, slagging most if not all of the bizarre little creatures.]

[Cliffjumper was a bit more concentrated on getting rid of his mob than anything else, and it wasn't as if he'd want to get stuck in the trail of heat and fire, so of course he'd move.

Even if it was annoying to have to listen to a Decepticon. On the other hand, this Thundercracker sounded rather close to the negative polarity one, so that might have helped as well.]

Ugh. Dunno how long they'll stay gone... [Trailing off as he snagged one of the stragglers after transforming to root mode and tossed it into the last bits of flame, Cliffjumper huffed, glare going from the no-more-than-ash stick figures, to Thundercracker, to a non-specified spot on the horizon and then back.]

... but, ugh. Thanks. [That just took more than a klik or so, but at least he got it out? Though not particularly gracefully, as he'd crossed his arms and looked away immediately after saying it.]

[Thundercracker transforms and nods, wordlessly accepting the gratitude, curt though it was.]

What were those things?

[That question has Cliffjumper shifting on his feet, reluctant to answer because embarrassing, but at the same time... In the end, he huffs, folding his arms across his chest.]

Dunno what, but things been fraggin' crazy for a bit... They're... I dunno, miniature, annoyin' versions of a Prime that comes from a reality that's flipped compared to how it's normally.

"Flipped"?

[He thinks about that for a moment . . . and frowns, not liking the implications tied to where his mind goes.]

You mean like the Soundwave who's here and the Megatron I've heard of are . . . "flipped" . . . ?

Uh-huh. The very same, since I don't think there's any other Soundwave or Megatron around currently.

[And he isn't particularly unhappy about that, either (inderstandably).]

They're both good mechs.

[You'll have to excuse his amused smirk, Thundercracker.]

[Cliffjumper gets a look for that last comment, as the Seeker's not sure if the Minibot is remarking on their character or punning off the popular belief which side of "Good/Evil" the Decepticons are normally taken to be, even among their own ranks.]

I haven't talked to Megatron, but the Soundwave I've met so far seems . . . friendly.

[And talkative. Let's not forget talkative. With a very strange set of vocabulary.]

[Both, though there's no "belief" involved here... more like reality. Especially when it comes to the negative polarity reality. Besides, Thundercracker... your faction's hardly nice and righteous in the majority of the realities.]

Friendly, nice, real understandin' of people... and Megatron couldn't just rival Prime in his ideals but sometimes he sort of feels like he's... more than that.

[Cliffjumper shrugs, a small grin on his faceplates. He doesn't mind saying it, since the Autobots of that reality... Megatron (or, as he is at the point in time Cliffjumper comes from, Galvatron) rather needs to be.]

. . . huh. Maybe I'll get to meet him one of these days.

I take it you know him pretty well?

When ya end up in the reality where he comes from, kinda hard not to. Iacon's a fraggin' asylum.

[He's still sore over how the Autobots in that place is, even if he's used to it by now.]

[Thundercracker hesitates, confused for an instant. He'd actually meant Megatron, but okay, that works too.]

I can only begin to imagine.

[Cliffjumper had just sort of baked it all together, sorry.]

An' hopefully you won't have to imagine it any more than that. Not that I regret meetin' the 'Cons from there, but, ugh.

[He shrugs and looks around, relieved the critters haven't respawned yet. The keyword unfortunately being "yet" here.]

... So, uh. Gonna try an' find somethin' that can make fire before they come back.

[He shifts on his feet, but he's already thanked Thundercracker as much as he's going to... and now this is just... awkward. Because to him this isn't the right Thundercracker to be "relaxed" around.

That would be the one with the expremely bright paintjob.]

[Thundercracker could tell the Minibot was uncomfortable. He couldn’t blame the mech either, considering their factions and their long history, even given the obviously not-quite-exactly-the-same realities they came from. This one was similar enough to the one he knew – well, “knew” – that he wondered at his own relative ease. Because he knew the mech wouldn’t attack him without more cause than his faction, he supposed. And as the intention was mutual…]

[Still, it might be for the best to make a graceful exit and save them both the trouble of “now what?” discomfort.]

Give me a call if you want a hand with that. Otherwise, I’ll be at the Junkpile.

[If the Minibot didn’t stop him, he would transform and take off.]

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[Action] HOLY CRA- the week, it vanished on me. O.o

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