[While Skids might never admit openly that he likes showing off...he likes showing off. He likes the way gravity works, he likes the way you can calculate trajectories using different forces to turn unconventional weapons--such as, say, the dead body of a half-transformed comrade--into deadly flying time-bombs waiting to explode. He likes target practice, and he likes aerial maneuvers. He likes flower arranging, and he likes haberdashery. He likes skills he hasn't learned yet.]

...

[Right now, he likes ramps. While he is positive that this chunk of motor-vehicular-catastrophe fell through the lambda from some sadistic circus, he is not going to look a gift-cart under the axles. It is not his fault that a wicked half-pike with a 360 degree loop now exists on the edge of the junk pile, but it would be sinful not to at least try it once. He has even outfitted the end of the ramp with a pile of logs--though why he has done this will remain a mystery unless you see the video through to its end.]

Just in case this does not go as I expect it to, I have a few announcements to make.

First--I seem to be cured. Most of you know this, but I'm making it official. Pharma got rid of the problematic 'devouring the energon of the living' thing.

[Even if he still had the mandibles. Win some, lose some. He'd win more if he got to torment Prowl with them later.]

Second--since we've had a number of new folks...Hi. I'm Skids. Ex-Diplomat, Autobot, and in charge of the Zoning Commitee. I've seen a number of you talking about feeling marginalized, so I invite you to contact Black Arachnia and join one of our Special Committees.

Making a difference starts here.

[The application is attached.]

Third--Nexus is possibly the best Firstforged, and...

Fourth--I leave my possessions to the Road Crew, Dead End, Chromedome, and Perceptor. Here goes.

( Possibly the most spontaneous act he's ever committed... )

I did mention that Nexus was the best First-forged, didn't I?

[Meet Skid's second alt-mode--a wood shredder. Also, he may have broken more than one strut trying this, but he is not going to ruin the moment now.]

Hey. Haven.

There are a few points we need to discuss.

[And Skids, being the unofficial announcer of all 'Committee' things, was taking it upon himself to bring them up.]

First of all, as far as I can tell everyone is starting to return to normal. That's good.

[He didn't really like being on the other end of the whole 'not remembering' thing.]

However, the Pillar is still here, and the Firstforged are still not. I'm open to suggestions on how to deal with this.

[Surely someone had gathered some information that would prove useful.]

Second, it looks like Knockout has applied to be on the Defense committee. I'll leave the voting up to Black Arachnia, so if anyone objects to his presence let her know.

It might not be a bad idea to have voting for an announcer, too, unless it sounds like I have a good voice for a holocube reporter. I won't do the weather, though.

[Granted, it was something he could do, but...well, who knew how long it would be before he was bored of it on a world where 'dry and sunny' happened every day.]

Finally...

And most pressingly...

I need help.

[He doesn't even know how to go about asking.]

Of the medical variety, or the scientific variety, or the any variety, because...

Well. Lets just say Knockout passed on his special 'talents' before Barricade got to him.

That's all.

[He stops transmitting and hopes that wasn't too cryptic...but just in case it was, he opens up a private transmission to both Perceptor and Dead End:]

( [Private to Perceptor and Dead End] )

As a public official, I'm making a public announcement.

Publicly.

[The camera pulls back to reveal a long, long, long line of flags spreading into the distance. Yes, they are all shaped like Prowl's Chevron. Some of them, if given closer inspection, even have catchy sayings on them like 'no fun zone,' and 'Patrol Raceway, top speed 10mph.' They are, as you can see, INCREDIBLY WITTY.]

First, these are our marked roadways. Er. Future Roadways. You'll probably see them around if you're driving between any of the temples. I was serious in my earlier threat: don't disturb them.

[The camera swings around 180 degrees to view BEHIND him, showing where the flags are continuing in the other direction. However, this time there is a beautifully paved surface extending towards Nexus's temple. Of course it would be Nexus's. Skids is the entire Zoning Committee, it can be wherever he wants.]

Secondly, the first patch of road has been completed by my favorite co-workers. We all strongly suggest not attempting to drive on it until further clearance has been given.

Or. You know. Go ahead.

We'll erect you as a statue commemorating your help with the 'Advancement of Cybertron' and just make a new road.

[He reaches down and picks up one of the flags that had previously marked the boundaries of the pavement-to-be, and turns the camera towards himself.]

Thirdly, and finally, I would like to assure all of...everyone...that synthetic energon is not recommended for consumption without further clinical studies. Which will not be conducted by me. Probably.

I promise.

[He is serious, or at the very least is doing a good job of appearing to be serious.]

I think that's all?

Oh.

Wait, no. I almost forgot. A few of you have submitted some applications to be on the Law Committee. Since we're still figuring this whole thing out, I guess it hasn't been a priority but I'll be looking at those soon.

To everyone else? Stop disappearing so we don't need more people on the Law Committee.

That's about it.

[Skids is driving, the camera showing rocks and dust flying as he whisks by. The terrain seems smoother here, and as he's cruising along he passes by a little red flag...then another. Then another. Coordinate marks tick off across the screen as he goes.]

This is a little announcement to declare two things, so if you like good news listen up.

First of all...I'd like you all to welcome 4 to the Law Committee. He filled out the form, it checked out. If anyone wants to vote him off, take it up with Black Arachnia. Or Miko.

[It's pretty handy, having someone to delegate to.]

Second of all...

[And now is one of his favorite times--showing off. Without slowing down he transforms, leaping off the ground in mid-transformation and rolling forward. The camera is a mess of dizziness for a moment before a solid object slams down in front of it--a thin, slender rod....
topped with a red flag.]

Today marks the day the last road in the haven is plotted.

[He stands, dusting off his hands, looking a little too pleased with himself.]

Now, I'm not in the Law group, but if I catch anyone pulling flags out over the next few lunar cycles until the roads are in? [His face gets reaaaally close to the camera--is that a green tint in his optics? It wasn't there before.] Then I'm going to hunt you down, and shove them in places only your maker has seen. Got it?

Good.

[A moment later he's back in vehicle mode, zooming along as if that display of aggression wasn't completely unusual for him.]

[Sadly, he doesn't make it much further before his engine starts sputtering.]

PERCEPTOR. SEND MORE OF YOUR ENERGON TO MY COORDINATES, NOW.

[Someone has been taking a little too much of that Synth En.]

Okay.

This is easy enough.

I know some of you have been waiting for the Law Committee to become official, right?

Well now it is.

[He holds up a datapad with the current Law Committee Roster listed on it.]

I spent the past few weeks- [Trying to forget about being changed into a Sparkeater] -tracking everyone down and drafting this. Since we're supposed to be a de-facto political organization, this announcement is public so that anyone can make themselves heard if there are any issues.

[He used to work for Senator Shockwave--it sounds close enough to what politicians do.]

This, uh, is the last time I'm going to do this, since from now on I'm in charge of zoning. Speaking of which--who was it that wanted roads built again?

Is that a thing?

Anyway.

Look this over, and speak up if I made any huge mistakes.

((OOC note: If you are on the Law Committee, feel free to assume that Skids has contacted you and gotten your opinion on what branch of the Committee you want to be on~ If you aren't on the Law Committee and want to be, give a poke here too!))

[An audio channel opens up to the sounds of a minor struggle. Metal shrieks briefly, then a loud thud follows. It isn't long before the scuffle is reduced to a painful sounding creak. Any medic could recognize that ring as the dangerously strained hyperflexion of an arm joint, and anyone who's met him might recognize the protests of a just-returned-to-normal Skids.]

Ow--OW, hey, its not like I wanted to eat your spark. Primus, it tasted terrible.

[A less than pleasant new voice cuts in over this.]

Do any of the seven theocrats in charge wish to explain how being attacked five minutes away from one of your 'temples' is supposed to constitute a Haven?!

[The question is rhetorical, there's about a five second pause before the voice chimes in again. And boy, is it as charming as ever!]

The perpetrator in question has been restrained, and I suggest someone direct me to where he can be deposited before this escalates any further.

[In the background, Skids can still be heard struggling clearly.]

Is this because I ate somebody else's spark? Please tell me I didn't. No. I'm serious. I need to know this.

Who arrives carrying stasis cuffs, anyhow?

[The feed ends.]

You know, for as many millions of stellar cycles of war as there have been, how come 90% of the fights I've been in have happened in the last...oh...month?

That's just a hypothetical question, you don't have to answer it.

[You know what's great about having a grappling hook when your enemies have a lot of feet? It's really easy to lure them over and trip them. Couple that with Bulkhead laying some heavy punches into the middle of the pile, and Skids feels that what has happened is a work of sheer geniu---whoa.

Wait.

Hold the genius. Where did that flash of orange come from?

It kind of looked like Rung, except it looked more like what Rung would look like after he'd been trampled underneath the stampede that he and Bulkhead had just tripped.]

...

[Frag.]

Okay, change of plans. Bulk might need some backup, and as for me...

Where is the nearest medic?

[He's going to let his new green friend keep distracting the monsters, and head right into the fray to gather up a Rung.]

Funny that we keep meeting like this, don't you think?

[Chased by things with tentacles that want to eat you and all? Not an awesome habit.]

You know, lately, when I was thinking about enjoying the freedom to make my own destiny without worrying about the bits of my past I was missing, I sort of meant to be enjoying that freedom IN MY OWN GALAXY.

However, I guess I've woken up in plenty of stranger places.

Or. At least one stranger place.

[Really, nothing could beat coming online in a ship that turned into giant robots that were fixated on one number. This was a pretty close second, though.]

I guess I've only got two questions.

[He rubs the back of his neck.]

First: Is there anyone around who's qualified to give me orders?

[Rodimus? Ultra Magnus? Whirl? What was the ranking system on the Lost Light, anyway?]

And secondly...and more importantly, is there a bar?

[He holds up an empty glass, which, given this new predicament, he knows he's going to want filled again. Tomorrow, he can start coming up with theories as to how he got here. Tonight, he doesn't want to.]