Stirring the Hornet's Nest

Spilled energon and coagulating oil. The smell of battle lingers even here in the staging ground just beneath the arena. The crowd just beyond is roaring as two combatants are locked in battle to the death. The shouts of pain and the clang of weapon against body, the thuds of one fighter hitting the ground or another delivering a solid body blow, ring in from the staircase leading up into the light, into the Forge.
Combatants both small and great, new and experienced, are gathered here in the warrior's hall, tanking up on energon and talking amongst themselves. Some are laughing uproariously, some are sitting with grimfaced determination, knowing they may never see another sunrise. The battles are displayed on a massive viewscreen and in the pits, a tall blue-armored mech with red optics, chiseled face and distinctive lips is grappling with a beastformer, who struggles against being pulled in half.
Medics and trainers are moving among the crowd, checking for injuries before the fight, and far in the back, bets are being taken. Lines are forming to see who will be pitted against who.
Knock Out has already put his skills to use patching up one or two combatants, and he'll surely stitch up more before the night is through. He's certainly made no move to volunteer himself. In between patients at the moment, he watches the current fight with a removed, almost bored sort of gaze, as if the wait til the inevitable is something of a trial.
Arcee is here in the crowd, disguised as a blocky-armored, smokey grey-colored femme by the name of 'Shutterfly'. She has a press pass from the Kaon News Network, and is procuring images for the news service to use in their local broadcasts. A lot of these warriors are seen locally in a favorable light, so this photojournalist does her best to remain out of the way and capture the excitement of the bouts as they happen.
Blast Off sits in the warrior's hall, trying to ignore not only the foul smells and barbaric sights that dominate this place- but also the way they stir something within him. Something he'd nearly forgotten in his pursuit of luxury, class, and civilized things. His Combaticon heritage remembers this deep within his circuits, though, even if he'd nearly forgotten it- the raw thrill of battle and the rush of victory. He once again shoves that down and simply tries to focus. There's still too much noise, stink and chaos here, and he would just like to focus, center, and WIN his upcoming battle. The confident Combaticon isn't too worried about whether he'll win- he just wants to be sure it looks good. For now, he calmly reads a datapad, too aloof to bother paying too much attention to the other fighters
Soundwave is here, too, lurking in the shadows, watching silently... as he is wont to do.
Thundercracker is bad at mingling. He's also not that interested in the fights. He spares the viewscreens no attention, and scarcely pays more to those absorbed by them. He sits opposite Blast Off for no better reason that someone reading is unlikely to try to make conversation with someone writing. If everyone is very lucky, it is not an ... unlicensed ... fictional ... work about the gladiators. Maybe it's something of substance! (Don't bet on it.)
Bombshell admittedly was very curious about the blood-sports of the Cybertronians, and thanks to some rather fortuitous situations involving sleeping guards, the Insecticon actually managed to find seating without having to remain in the lower caste's sections. There was suffering within the arena, torment that only a pit fighter could endure and it's sweet aroma drew the warper to a state of bliss that he rarely could enter. Perhaps one day he'd be the one pulling apart some upper-world beast for his own enjoyment but for now the viewing of the beautiful display was plenty.
A pair of Kaonian police officers are here, sitting at a table, one yellow, one black, both speeders. The badges are off, and a totally different badge is being worn around their necks on a chain. It's a common sight here: everyone has that purple badge on a chain around their necks. Victories are notched into the sides.
"Seriously bro, you cut it way too close last time," the red speeder complains.
"Pff, you know me, I never lose," the yellow one dismissively replies.
Exodus also manages to slip into the pit fights the same way Bombshell did, past the sleeping guards. He now approaches Blast Off, taking a momentary seat next to him. "Good luck," he tells the Combaticon, "make it out in one piece, brother." Then he gets up, sparing Thundercracker a brief glance before managing to find 'Shutterfly' amidst the noisy crowd. "Hey," he says, coming up behind her, "how goes the filming?"
'Shutterfly' turns her attention from filming to smile at Exodus, and she seems a bit surprised. "Oh, it's going very well, thank you! ...I'm a bit surprised to see you here," she admits, "After what you said. I didn't know you came here."
The guards in the back part; Barricade, Lugnut and Black Out are moving along with another figure in blue. His faceplate, the winged sides of his helmet, and the fact that he's packing a small army of toughs with him would note that he's a fairly important person here. Two Triorian guards stop their game of Fullstasis and look up.
"CHAMPIONS!"
Clench steps out from among the crowd of guards, waiting for the attention of the group. On the video screen, Overlord raises half of the now butchered beastformer over his head.
Thundercracker is in luck, then. For the aloof Blast Off isn't inclined towards idle chatter. He glances up as the Seeker sits down nearby, then is relieved when he's simply left alone. And so the Combaticon returns to his reading. He does look up once again, however, a short time later. Noting that Thundercracker seems to be writing something, the shuttleformer becomes just curious enough to glance towards the Seeker's screen, wondering briefly what it is. As a cultured mech, Blast Off can appreciate creative endeavors. He subsonsciously leans in just a bit before catching himself and leaning back again. Then he's back to his own datapad, not wanting to be a snoop- and not exactly a paragon of social skill, either.
Suddenly there's Exodus, the strange mech who for some reason seems to have taken interest in Blast Off's wellbeing... which only makes him suspicious, naturally. The Combaticon's gaze shifts from datapad to the other mech, violet optics cool as can be. "...I'm not your brother." Then he goes back to his datapad. (Again, wow, such a sociable guy, ain't he?)
A peek at Thundercracker's screen actually reveals what seems to be the outline of a training manual, so everyone can just settle in relief. That could have been /so much worse/. It's even easier for Blast Off to get a look at it when Exodus passes by, as Thundercracker glances up to see just who it is that his seatmate is so firmly rejecting. In doing so, he sets the datapad down, and it remains down as Clench steps forward.
Exodus returns the fem's smile warmly. "Good, I'm glad." He pauses. "I know. I.. don't come often. But there's been a rumor going around recently that someone I've been too afraid to look for might turn up here. And... yeah. I thought maybe.." His expression is pained, and he looks away. "Well, I also saw you and Blast Off wander in here, and I figured I might as well. Make sure he gets out of this in one piece and you--well, I'd always be grateful for your company."
Knock Out glances at Clench as he makes his presence known. The flicker of gaze slides briefly back to Overlord, but inevitably slides back to the pit runner.
'Shutterfly' makes note of the new arrivals, and takes some images of them curiously. Some of these images actually are being sent back to KNN...because she's managed to procure an actual job with them under her alias -- but naturally, other images are just being sent back to Prowl and Magnus, because that's part of the 'real' reason she's here. After she gets the images she needs, she turns back toward Exodus. "Well, thank you so much! ...What was his name, then? The one from last night, his name is Blast Off? I'll have to remember that. He seemed kind of secretive, so I was just going to leave him be," she admits.
Perhaps there was more to this game than just the battle for as the creature's form was raised for viewing a new sensation overtook Bombshell,the air felt of great victory. Like any he fantasied himself in such a pose though in the stead of a cyber-beast he pictured himself raising the vile form of the over-world's leader for all his hive to see, a revolutionary, or just a monster was yet to be seen from the rather small Insecticon. Attachments within his shimmering gold optical visor procured from the /very/ recently deceased components shop owner (what on Cybertron could of possessed him to jump right behind a ship engine and fry himself? hehehe) allowed for Bombshell to take a few images of the pit champion for future reference, after all if Bombshell's dreams of terror were to become reality, he'd certainly need capable warriors to operate.
Clench makes his way to the video screen where he can be seen by everyone within the hall. The last official match of the evening is over, and the victors are being escorted to medical for repairs. Constructicons are fanning out to harvest the bodies of the dead for re-use.
"I'm here to speak to you all, as I am wont to do upon occasion." Read: Whenever he wants an ego-boost. "The good news is, profits are up! We've collected enough money in sales and bets that EVERYONE gets double pay for their matches and recruits get a bigger sign on bonus!" This causes a swell of cheers, hoots and whistles from the fighters lined up at the benches. Servers are beginning to filter out from the supply rooms, carrying mugs of -good- engex to pass out amongst the crowd.
Clench puts his arms behind his back. "But there is, unfortunately, some -bad news-. I don't have to tell you all that I really hate getting bad news."
"It seems that SOME OF YOU decided to engage in some extra curricular activities. Those of you who, in specific, are FORGE PROPERTY!" His voice booms as he snarls those last few words. His guards draw in closer. "This was supposed to be a QUIET operation, but now that you IDIOTS have gotten yourselves on camera engaged in a raid on GOVERNMENT PROPERTY, the cops are going to be SNIFFING UP MY TAILPIPE. And if THAT isn't enough to warm the cockles of your miserable little fuel pumps, they'll be UP YOURS AS WELL!"
Knock Out snorts. His gaze slides casually to the bots around him, perhaps looking to see if any of his fellow 'raiders' are around. He doesn't look particularly apologetic, at any rate.
Exodus walks alongside 'Shutterfly', glancing briefly around at the happenings of the Forge, his expression sad as he listens to Clench's angry rant. Then he turns to 'Shutterfly'. "You're welcome," he says, "Yeah. I don't think he's secretive. He's just hurt, just like everyone else who participates in these ... pit fights." He sighs heavily, shaking his helm, as he makes his way towards the arena now.
Blast Off catches sight of Thundercracker's datapad and the Combaticon's optic ridges furrow slightly before glancing back at the Seeker. "A training manual? Are you taking notes? This isn't your first time fighting, is it?", he asks, suddenly wondering if he's looking at a dead mech walking. "Or... wait, are YOU writing the manual?" Blast Off looka the Seeker up and down, studying him for clues.
When Clench comes on and speaks, Blast Off does finally break away and actually pay attention to this new speaker. The good news is... well, good. That means the shuttle should see even greater profit when he wins (and finally start getting his life back in order)! The bad news... well, he blinks and turns to look at Thundercracker with an indignant huff. "Just WHO does he think he IS, speaking to us like that?" Then something else he heard dawns on him. "...Wait, did he say the police will be coming?" That's... not good. Especially when you're on the run from the law. He glances around the crowd, a wing elevon suddenly twitching.
"Hmm...perhaps." 'Shutterfly' glances from Exodus toward Clench as he begins to rant. "Mm, sounds like someone's got a burr imbedded in their aftplate," she muses, continuing to observe.
Visibly taken aback, Thundercracker pulls his datapad back in to vanish it with a tip of his hand. He looks every inch a soldier, with military settled into the dignified, honorable (no one tell) bearing of his wings. "I am /not/ taking notes on this--." But before he can insult the fun and games, Clench draws every eye and every ear. "He's a fool who sees his control slipping," he somewhat glumly says in an undertone to Blast Off. He sounds resigned, as though this kind of behavior is inevitable.
Clench calms down with a disturbing rapidity, only to burst out into fury during his speech. "Since some of you see fit to jeopardize this entire organization, we're gonna have to establish some new ground rules. NUMBER ONE: Any of you that have sold yourself to the Forge as property will now LIVE HERE. You do not LEAVE here, you do not SPEAK TO ANYONE OUTSIDE THE FORGE, you do not THINK ANYTHING BUT THE FORGE, without MY SAYSO! NUMBER TWO: Any of you glitches that come here to fight and -aren't- forge property? If your EXHAUST-SUCKIN' FACE SHOWS UP ON THE NEWS, you are BANNED. You come in here to fight and you're on my scraplist? You're FRAGGED. /I AM NOT GOING TO LET YOUR LITTLE POLITICAL RANTS FRAG THIS UP FOR US/." He storms his way out of the hall to the back offices.
"Well, that was a nice little tantrum," Knock Out comments as he watches Clench storm back off to the offices.
Blast Off blinks as Thundercracker puts his datapad away. "Pardon, I did not mean to intrude..." The shuttleformer isn't very good at socialization, but he does at least have a sense of gentlemechly behavior. And upon studying the other mech, one soldier can kind of pick up on a fellow soldier. Hearing Thundercracker's response on Clench, the shuttleformer slowly nods. "I see..." The Combaticon places his own datapad down and adds quietly, "Well... someone once told me a fool and their money are soon parted." (Three guesses who that might have been *cough*Swindle*cough). "A fool and their position of power are soon parted as well." He glances up. "I've heard of this ...operation some Decepticons were involved with recently. I have to wonder if there will be more? There's a lot of unrest out there in the world right now..."
The Combaticon then blinks again as Clench lays down some ultimatums. He stiffens, then lets out a sputtering huff that cycles through his ventilation systems. "What did he say?!" (Blast Off heard what he said.) Another sputtering cycle. Blast Off isn't Forge property (or he better NOT be)... but his face is *already* on the news. Just... not for the same reasons as those Institute raiders. "What if we can't HELP our face being on the news?!" He cycles through a few more times before reasoning with himself, "Well... maybe he meant ...just... certain people. For... certain things." Whatever those are. Still, this is a fine how-do-you-do, and the shuttle looks more concerned now. He glances around the crowd again, gauging reactions.
Soundwave is still standing in the crowd, off in the shadows. His visor seems to flicker at Clench's rant, but then quiets, and he doesn't give any other reaction. Now... would not be the time.
'Shutterfly' laughs to herself at Clench's meltdown...she hasn't seen melodrama like that since she went to the opera with Blast Off some time ago. She's pretty sure that his meltdown has nothing to do with local news coverage. Hopefully.
"I wonder who overtightened -his- bolts," a gray and purple triplechanger snorts, watching Clench leave.
"Who cares? It doesn't involve -us-," says another with black and silver markings. "I'm just gonna chug the free booze."
Thundercracker gives Blast Off a remarkably bland look. It's the kind of bland look that one arrives at after learning to deal with Skywarp-and-Starscream-sized antics. It deserves a training manual. He should write one. "So long as there is unrest, I'm sure there will be ... unrest. He does himself no favors with that ultimatum." Glancing after Clench thoughtfully, he shakes his head once.
To study the combatants more closely Bombshell launched one of his tiny cerebro shells into the pit as the crowds deafening cheers covered the pop of the cannon atop his head. Linked telepathically to the machine hardly the size of the tip of his digit he could see and hear all. Seems the fighting beasts were in some form of trouble, and it seems there is some unrest among the pit-fighters, no exiting? Well, it might be profitable to return now that a army of lethal fighting mechs were all crowded together in one place ripe for the taking.
The repaired fighters are filtering back into the hall. One of them - the infamous dull gray miner tank that lead some of them into the bowls of the institute - makes his way to a table alone, and has a seat. The air is alive with conversation, especially about Clench's new 'edicts'.
".. Can you believe that guy?"
"Stay here? ... Well it's not like I have anywhere else to go..."
"He's as bad as the high castes, pushin' us around like that..."
'Shutterfly' makes her way over to the mechs who commented about Clench near where she is watching. "So you don't think this really pertains to you mechs...? Who do you think he's mad at?" she asks the triplechanger curiously.
Octane leaaans over towards 'Shutterfly'. "Hey, wanna do a -personal- interview?" He grins widely, trying (and failing) to be charming.
Astrotrain cuffs Octane on the back of the head. "Shaddap."
Blitzwing points at Megatron. "Mostly him," he answers succinctly.
Blast Off can kind of sympathise with Thundercracker's bland look... he, too, knows suffering at the hands of idiotic teammates (read: Brawl). "Well... yes. Obviously. And from the looks around here.... I think he just kicked a turbo-hornet's nest." He looks around again, wondering briefly where this will all lead... but not too concerned beyond how it will affect HIM. That comment about being in the news primarily. Blast Off notices Megatron enter the area, but has no reason to go bother the mech. "It certainly seems like every time I thought things couldn't get more chaotic around here... they do."
The shuttleformer hears something about "as bad as the high castes" and glances that mech's way with some disdain. But then he remembers that he technically probably *isn't* high caste... not anymore, and that brings him back to gazing... a little morosely... at his datapad once again.
Soundwave also notes Megatron's appearance, and moves quietly so that he's closer to the gray Miner.
'Shutterfly' smirks at Octane. Some mechs! But Blitzwing's comment has her nodding in understanding. This is all about the inner power struggle, plain and simple. And Clench probably did feel threatened by Megatron's up-and-coming momentum. It would definitely take more than arena-style bouts to work this business out.
As she muses, she wanders some more, eventually making her way toward the place where Blast Off is talking with Thundercracker.
"Yes. I believe he did," agrees Thundercracker. See again: resigned. "I would not expect the level of chaos to decrease any time soon." He keeps an eye on the flow of people through the space -- noting Megatron as he arrives as much as he notes Shutterfly as she strolls over.
Knock Out is surely around; he's not leaving now that Megatron's made his appearance. He's just -- around in the background. Being pretty.
Knock Out goes home.
Megatron looks up at Barricade comes over to talk to him. The two seem to be discussing something important. Megatron gestures for Soundwave to come closer, and before long Black Out and Lugnut are gathering around the table, too.
'Shutterfly' nods in acknowledgement to Thundercracker, then stands over near Blast Off. "Good to see you again," she mentions, although she keeps it very 'aloof' and gives him plenty of space, just in case he's not particularly glad to see her again. He certainly was grumpy the last time she saw him. "Stress levels are peaking tonight. Could be something big on the horizon."
"No", Blast Off responds to the Seeker, "Neither would I." He shrugs. "As long as I can do what *I* need to do, win some fights, and earn some shanix... I don't much care. I just hope they keep out of MY circuits." He starts reading hsi datapad again- at least until he notices "Shutterfly" walk over. The Combaticon remembers her from the night before, and gives her a short, polite nod. "Indeed. The "natives are restless". I can't really blame them, however."
Soundwave comes closer to Megatron, standing slightly to the right side of the Miner. "Clench's words are... disturbing," He says quietly.
"If the authorities intend to do something about us, then Clench is merely a speedbump on the road of history," Barricade points out. "They'll smelt him just as soon as they'd smelt us. All he can do is yell."
"Indeed," Megatron agrees. "Gather those of us who are loyal, have they begin training. Pass out the weapons we took. It's time to take matters into our own hands."
"Glorious!" Lugnut announces in agreement and enthusiasm.
Megaton's last statement..interested Bombshell. Though it took a while, Bombshell eventually managed to find his way among the conspirers. By comparison he was tiny, though his form was very unique, a Insecticon in robot form was a rare sight to see. "Greetings Cybertronians." he stated and performed a short bow, perhaps modern social graces was something he should study more.
'Shutterfly' really has to make a concerted effort to hide her shock and surprise upon seeing...yet ANOTHER sentient Insecticon! Perhaps from the same hive as her own, dear bug...
But she can't think of these things. Not when she faces certain death if she breaks cover, even once.
"Well, greetings to you! ...I'm never surprised in Kaon anymore. Something new happens here every cycle." 'Shutterfly' procures a few images of Bombshell.
"You are a cybertronian as well, are you not?" Megatron says to Bombshell in reply. He's certain this must be one of the Insecticons taken from the institute, but how the bug ended up here is a mystery to him. He treats Bombshell as an equal, not with the disdain most have for his kind.
Thundercracker glances between Blast Off and Shutterfly with a narrow thoughtfulness as he marks familiarity and Blast Off's response to her. "Have you been here long?" He's not really a subterfuge kind of guy; the question is straightforward.
Blast Off looks up as he's suddenly greeted by Bombshell. He has seen a few Insecticons now... three to be exact. Oh /great/, there's /more/ (end/sarcasm). Ah well, as long as this new Insecticon doesn't try to /eat/ him (like two of the others have threatened)... this can go... okay. Maybe. "Greetings, Insecticon," he responds... sounding neither pleased nor displeased. Though perhaps watching a bit warily, lest the bug DOES decide to try eating something.
Soundwave listens intently to Megatron, then responds with, "It will be done, Megatron." The outlier watches Bombshell with interest. "Greetings. All are equal here."
"In Kaon, yessir, some time," 'Shutterfly' answers Thundercracker. "Here in the Forge, however, this is relatively new to me. I work for the local news service. KNN. These bouts are of increasing interest to many citizens here in Kaon, and as a photojournalist, I try to capture the true spirit of my subjects. The Forge has ignited local interest like...well, like nothing I've ever seen prior to its existence."
"You may yet help me with my cause." he stated Megatron, while under his visors staring down Blast Off, then turning his attention to Soundwave, sending a little telepathic greeting, yes he DID notice. "I seek independence for my species, I refuse to be a slave to this upper-world's corrupt regime, we did not ask for your civilization, and since my brothers Shrapnel and Kickback do not see my vision I must go with the next best thing." for whatever reason, the Insecticon was spilling his guts out to Megatron before even asking his name, maybe he was the liberator. Since his brothers refuse to be usful, he'd continue his mission with hopefully some more bloodthirsty warriors.
"None of us asked for this civilization. It was thrust upon us. All of us." Megatron addresses Bombshell now with interest, looking at the Insecticon's body language. He'd been around them before, and had an inkling there were more to them - just as Ravage, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak were no more 'mining equipment' than Rumble and Frenzy - but to hear one speak clearly, to express a similar frustration with his lot in life, only encouraged the miner.
"Independence may not be won without suffering, violence and death. Are you prepared to accept this? To accept that you may die without ever seeing the freedom you crave? You said you have brothers that do not share your vision, if they will not fight, will you relent? Would you be willing to turn against them to achieve your aims?"
"What do you feel is the true spirit of this, then?" asks Thundercracker. He glances briefly past Shutterfly and then returns his gaze to her. He looks serious, thoughtful, and basically just out of place.
"I am a Warper, I am breed for one reason alone, torment. You ask me if I fear destruction? Never, I am a Insection, we hold no value upon our own lives but the lives of the swarm. However if you manage to keep me alive, I can offer you a gift that one in your current predicament may find enticing, the 'Prime' of Cybertron licking at your treads obeying your every whim as though he is a captured drone." though he wasn't completely sure what a Prime was, he knew the being was a leader of great power something a political target may find useful.
Blast Off watches Bombshell, aloof as ever. "Well... I can sympathise with not wanting to be subjucated by some corrupt regime..." He turns to listen to "Shutterfly". "I would imagine so..." He glances at her to make sure she's not taking his picture or anything.
Soundwave listens to both Bombshell and Megatron. The Insecticon's "greeting" gets a flicker of interest from the outlier's red visor. Soundwave reaches out mentally, feeling for Bombshell's surface thoughts and emotions.... if he can focus in on them.
"...Class struggle...inequality, and a reckoning that's taken far too long to get here. Sometimes, that turns out to be something very hopeful. Other times it ends in tragedy. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that this place has made a major impact, for better or worse, for many of the Kaonites I've spoken to over time," 'Shutterfly' tells Thundercracker, with a small part of her attention still on Bombshell's earnest discussion with Megatron nearby. "A lot of mechs around here grab on to any sort of hope that things will improve. So it's a mixed bag of results. But one thing's for sure: those who get their news locally, they want to know about this place. The requests are overwhelming."
Blast Off can pretty much rest easy, as 'Shutterfly' appears to be in conversation with Thundercracker and isn't taking pictures of anyone at the moment.
\"Your offer is indeed generous, Insecticon, but I do not want a humiliated Prime. I want a -dead- one." Megatron says it openly and without fear. "I wish to uproot this entire debased system in which we live, and burn it all, until only the ashes of memory remain as a constant reminder of why it must never happen again."
"That is not what many come to find in gladiator matches." It is not that Thundercracker thinks her assessment is wrong, exactly, but it does catch his attention. "But you do?"
"Do I...come here with an expectation of finding answers, you mean?" 'Shutterfly' asks Thundercracker, probably not quite understanding what he's getting at. "On a professional level, I absolutely want to know what the intense interest is all about. There's much more happening here than just typical brawling, and it's the momentum behind the phenomenon that has me interested."
"It seems than that you and I share similar goals. Oh, and I am Bombshell, of the hive Corox." He seemed almost infatuated with Megatron's words. Though at the probing at his own mind, he sent a message, simply stating that he knew Soundwave was a gifted telepath, and should he need a boost, Bombshell could help. "So tell me than, if you truly wish to burn this wretched world down, how exactly do you expect to find a massive enough army to achieve such a goal," Still it was almost comical the one he blamed for Kick-back's downfall, the very one he planned to torture for her role in Insecticon suppression was only a few feet from him.
"I see." Thundercracker pushes to his feet to stand over her a moment, but despite the moment's study, nothing comes of it. "I'll look forward to your report, then -- ah...?" He pauses, waiting for a name before departing.
'Shutterfly' has learned very quickly how to weather through terrifying situations -- such as the one she's in right now -- by using her very best poker face expression. "My name's Shutterfly, I'm a photojournalist for the Kaon News Network," she tells Thundercracker politely, showing him her press pass.
What a nice press pass. Shutterfly's totally a pro at handling solemn blue mechs at this point, anyway, so Thundercracker can't ... crack her. He glances at the pass, makes a note of her name, her network, and then simply nods. "Keep up the good work." With that, he leaves her to her reporting. (And maybe, just maybe, goes to find out what kind of prior reporting she's done.)
Blast Off blinks at Megatron's staement of dead Primes and burning things to the ground- *everything*. He turns to stare at the Miner. Once again- it's not with approval OR disapproval... but perhaps a little surprise at hearing him so openly state such a thing. And then... a secret wish that Megatron WILL do just that. Then he's back to listening to Thundercracker and "Shutterfly". "This..."brawling" is merely a symptom of a far greater illness. People need some way to vent... this is but one outlet for that. ...For now." He watches as Thundercracker leaves, giving the Seeker a pliite nod as he goes.
Soundwave simply listens and nods to Bombshell.
"Thank you!" With that, 'Shutterfly' heads back into the crowd of mechs, to get a few more accounts of how this place is important to them, should they feel like talking. She's patient, polite, and if someone just doesn't feel like talking to the local press, she doesn't make an issue of it. There are plenty of nervous empties about who would rather not take that chance, especially in the light of Clutch's meltdown, and that's fine with the roving photojournalist.
As for Megatron himself? He's pretty popular, so she'll just need to get that particular story at a later time. Same with...tending to the Blast Off issue.
Category:Kaon Uprising