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Title: Rabble Rabble

PCs: Deadlock, Hot Rod, Moonlight, Rewind, Swivel, Thundercracker

Location: Nyon

Date: 06 February 2015

NPCs: NPCs by Prowl

Summary: A little informational gathering turns chaotic when the Enforcers arrive.


To call this a demonstration would imply a far greater degree of order and organization than is currently in evidence. A fair, impartial observer might say there is a ragged rabble roused to rumble of rebellion, but only if that observer was really unnecessarily fond of alliteration.


A broken roof stands between the gathered handful and the sky spies above. From above, there are glimpses -- just glimpses, mind you -- of the Nyon residents gathered below. It just might be enough to draw the eye of the Enforcers, though, especially given that one /annoying/ guy moves among them.


Hot Rod has finally scraped the shanix together to fix his finish. He's bright and shiny and red and gold and sleek as the day he was forged. What's he doing? Being a trouble: with word out of the underground datanet slowly gaining more and more nodes in Nyon's neighborhoods, he's here to answer questions ... and encourage dissent. "--of course they're listening, that's kind of the whole point of the anonymity," he's telling a lithe green femme who stands taller than him. "But the people who put it together are way smarter than me. It doesn't matter if one node goes down, because it's all backed up. Distributed. They can't just take it away, and we'll finally have a voice of our own that they can't control."



Moonlight is far less interested in causing 'trouble' than Hot Rod; but she interested in getting a better read on the young and rather vibrant mech. He and Prowl are night and day to each other and this amuses her greatly. Yet each of them seem rather convinced that they are right, and they cannot both be right. So right now she's happy to go between the two and form her own opinions. Hot Rod might see her amidst the group, or he might not. She's not making any effort to stand out or to hide.



Some of the Nyonians may be surprised to find there is a Decepticon in their midst, and he's standing right behind Hot Rod, usually interjecting his own answers every now and then. "--anonymity isn't that important," Deadlock tells the green fem, "join people who actually know how to fight, or learn how to fight yourself, then you won't have to worry about being discovered. Violent resistance," he stresses, "that's what is going to make the Senate balk the most."



'The people who put it together are way smarter than me' seems better persuasion than anything else Hot Rod has come up with so far to answer the femme in question. She gives Deadlock a calculating glance and asks, "You teach -- do you also arm them?"


"Ha ha, you don't want to listen to him," says Hot Rod as he elbows between the femme and Deadlock. "If you're interested in learning how to defend yourself, send me a message, okay? Great. Excuse me." Turning his back on her (and necessarily forcing her back a step so that she doesn't get whacked with his spoiler), Hot Rod faces Deadlock. He smiles like he thinks it's a game, but it's one that's getting under his plating. "You're killing me, buddy. Are you trying to pull /everyone/ who can hold a gun out of Nyon?"


Rather than spot Moonlight, he spots her hat. Hot Rod leans to the side, looking past Deadlock to see if he's right about recognizing her.



"Violent resistance, hm? Now, what if you're trying to be violent against people who will just squash you flat without a second thought because they're that much more powerful than you are? Doesn't sound like a very convincing argument," Moonlight says, speaking up to the dark toned fellow who is yet another kind of contrast to Hot Rod. She pushes herself off the wall she was leaning against and moves closer to him.


By this time Hot Rod should be assured that it is, in fact, Moonlight.



"No," Deadlock answers Hot Rod, "You don't want to know what it feels like for me to actually do that," he says, folding his arms and avert his gaze sullenly. "That's why you join a movement and don't try to run a solo act, that'll get you killed in a nano-klik. Basic military tactics, come /on/!" He grumbles. "That's why all of you should just join the Decepticons."



"So how do you address the power imbalance?" Hot Rod flashes Moonlight a smile of welcome, although he can't help but give her hat a second glance. No time to comment, though, because Deadlock pulls his attention back. Hot Rod's smile fails and he says, "What, did you repaint right over your sense of humor? It's not a solo act if the rest of Nyon bands together, anyway!"



Moonlight looks mildly amused. "Why would anyone join a movement that has such an unflattering name?" she wants to know. "I mean, what kind of pitch is it to say, 'Join us, you can trust me, I'm a Decepticon!' Doesn't work. Nope." She tilts her hat back on her head and grins at the rather sullen mech. "Don't mind me; I haven't been on Cybertron long." Certainly not long enough to know ALL ABOUT the Decepticons.


She looks over at Hot Rod. "/I/ don't," she says simply. "Usually I just work for the people who do. Good laws, bad laws, there's always going to be someone who doesn't like them. That's where my job came in."



Deadlock leers at Moonlight. He doesn't have a very good temper. His optics flash. "You don't need trust. You just have to know how to watch your back," he says darkly. He pouts at Hot Rod. "Yeah, but they don't know two slags about fighting. And you're no better than they are."



"Well, could be worse. Could be 'Murdercons', but then -- you get enough people who are mad enough at other people and I guess even that'd have its appeal." Hot Rod aims for a light tone, but it falls unevenly as he glances between them. "You're wrong. You /do/ need trust. You can't watch your own back, not all the time. You have to have people you can trust to stand there, back to back with you." He gives Deadlock a clasp on the shoulder and a meaningful look. Right, buddy? BUDDY? "And besides, I'm /working/ on that. So are they. Everyone has to start from somewhere. What about you?" he asks with a glance at Moonlight. "I'm totally right, right?"



Moonlight just winks at Deadlock. "Everyone's got their talents. Some of us are better at covert operations than brute force," she says. "Misdirection, hit and run tactics, supply blockades. That sort of thing. I'm not very good in a pound per pound fist fight. Not in the least bit." She shrugs her shoulders, somewhat insolently, "Still, trust can go a long way. Even folks like me have to have SOMEONE to trust."


She laughs softly to Hot Rod. "Yeah, that WOULD be worse," she says. "Murdercons indeed." She shakes her head, greatly amused at this. "What do you want me to say you're right about?" she asks with an impish smile. "Everyone /does/ have to start from somewhere."



Deadlock makes a face at Hot Rod, arms folded. "Murdercons?" he raises a brow ridge at Hot Rod, releasing an exasperated sigh with an equally annoyed expression to match. "Yeah, okay, I get what you're saying, but what I'm saying is that you can still have a powerful movement without a lot of trust in the mechs who run it," he says, eying Hot Rod and Moonlight. "Cover operations, eh? And how'd you learn about that?"



"Ha, I'm right. And you know trust is important -- you /know/ it is." Hot Rod's clasp becomes a punch (friendly) and then his hand drops. He's grinning like he just won a war rather than an extremely minor conversational concession. "See, that kind of hit and run, slide around the trouble thing is just what you need when the two sides are as unequal as you were saying," he says to Moonlight. "Sometimes it's not just about punching the other guy: it's about weakening them, building up your own side. You're not in for laws, so what /are/ you in for?" he asks her. The question is pretty blunt, but his manner is open -- friendly, even. As though he has no doubt of an answer he'll like.



"I'm a smuggler. Covert is the name of the game. Moonlight is the name of the femme," she further adds, sweeping her hat off her head and taking a bow. "Trust, well, you might not have to trust the leaders, and every person /in/ the movement, but you gotta trust those you're working with most closely," she points out to the dark colored mech.


Well, Hot Rod gets a friendly punch right back; she's not timid about such things, and she's certainly not some prissy high caste, delicate flower of a femme. "Frankly, I'm all about me," she says. "I'm horribly selfish," she states, almost proudly, with a grin. "But I also know I work best in a team, not alone. So, I suppose, I'm just looking to see where I fit in." It's not about ideology with this femme. Hot Rod might be disappointed, but at least nothing about her comes across as a smooth individual who only tells a mech what he wants to hear.



"You should join the Decepticons," Deadlock quickly interjects, sparing Hot Rod an annoyed look. Primus, he could be a pain in the aft sometimes, especially when he flaunted being right when he wasn't, actually. He shoves the flameo boy semi playfully. "No. /You're/ not," he says. "But whatever."



"Don't join the Decepticons," Hot Rod adds right after Deadlock. "There are more people who need help than just them." He jostles at the shove, but finds his feet again after a moment. "I don't get it. How could you follow someone you don't trust? You've got to trust the people leading, or else how do you even know you're being lead the right way, you know? I'm totally right! You need trust, you need a shared vision. People not being able to trust their government is what leads to all this," he says with a gesture at others milling nearby.



"Alright, Tall, Dark, and Gloomy, tell me about these Decepticons. I've been here for barely a week," Moonlight says to Deadlock, since he OBVIOUSLY has a one tract mind.


Looking at Hot Rod, she shakes her head slightly. "Well, if an organization gets big enough, you can't personally know them well enough to actually trust them. Have faith in them, yes, but trust is more personal than that," she says. "I ran with a small crew and we knew each other well. We HAD to have each other's backs or we would fail. But there was less than ten of us, so it was easy." She shrugs her shoulders. "This whole planet is going to go up in flames from the sounds of it, which sucks since I'm ON it right now, so there's no way you can know everyone you wish to be on your side. See?"



These sorts of gatherings aren't necessarily seen as a bad thing in Swivel's eyes, but she is learning just what they look like in the optics of those who matter: the law. Thus Swivel had been dawdling nearby but would not go near the small congregation. However, she does have some deadlines that she must work within, and she'd already taken much to long on her last job which took her all the way to Protihex. Swivel curls in her lips and sticks out her chin, a look of determination against all odds. She has to carry out her mission. She must! This was no time to lose one's nerve 


If her body were coloured not with paint but melanin and blood, her knuckles would be white as she grips tightly. One hand is locked into a fist, the other holds tightly an electronic letter. With a sense of purpose, Swivel strides through the group of looky-loos, dissenters, and busybodies attracted to this little rally, and stops right by Moonlight, Deadlock, and Hot Rod. The latter is the only one she seems to be paying any attention to, as she seeks to catch his optics through sheer force of presence. Not that she actually has much of a presence. Except when she is making a spectacle of herself through clumsiness and slapstick gags. Still, she stands very much so in his space looking up at Hot Rod. "O'Rod." Yeah. That's what she calls him. Soon it might just become Rod if he doesn't discourage her slow elimination of letters from his name.



Deadlock out here in the open, at this rather large gathering that involves someone with as obnoxious of a paintjob as Hot Rod's? With all the sky spies, and real spies around? Yeah, probably not the best idea. While not every Decepticon is a full-on criminal yet, he certainly -is-. He has a long list of crimes against society and the system that holds it up, most of which are not the minor kind.


Overhead six red and black Enforcers deploy from an airborne squad vehicle, diving suddenly out of the sky. They surround the group and train their weapons on the renamed Drift. One of the taller officers grins with the satisfaction of the catch, presumably the squadron leader. "You know I would start listing off all the reasons why you're under arrest, but that would just be a waste of time, so we'll just get right to the point. We can do this the easy way, where you all step away from the criminal and he comes with us willingly, -or-..." he smirks, brandishing this weapon. It gives a slight hum as it charges to full power. "...we can do this the -hard- way, and lots of people can get hurt."



Deadlock grins a little. Why is he grinning?! A bunch of Autobots have shown up to arrest or possibly kill him. Somehow, that thrills him. Has anyone ever mentioned to Hot Rod that his best friend is Miley Cyrus' 'Can't Be Tamed' on steroids? 


The Decepticon grins, and holds up both his hands. "Well, /damn/ boys, you got me," he says, walking towards the enforcers slowly and biding his time, "guess I better watch my back next time." Despite the growing unease in the crowd around him, Deadlock seems perfectly calm, his gaze steady.



"No." Hot Rod truly, earnestly does not follow. "It's a chain of trust. Every link matters. People don't just join up with movements or causes or organizations blind and alone. Even if it is just one person that they get to know -- there's trust there, and that person trusts someone else. Maybe you can't know everyone, but you're still /linked/ to everyone." He even joins his hands together in a demonstrative clasp. What a little goober.


Hot Rod drops his hands with a, "Hey, Swiv!" that is far more laid back than her body language. "Didn't expect I'd see you here. Awesome! So what do y--." Then the Enforcers show up. /Of course/. The glance he casts in Swivel's direction carries a shade of almost-suspicion for all his earlier talk of trust, but all he says is, "Oops."


Hot Rod falls in next to Deadlock, but his attention -- rather than focusing on the Autobots -- is focused on the crowd. "Swiv, Moonlight, help get people out of here, would you?" he asks-slash-orders-slash-requests.


/Leaving/ isn't a problem for most: they've already gotten that memo. Leaving in organized fashion without trampling the smaller among them, now -- that might be tricky.



Moonlight raises her hands, but doesn't move. "Which criminal?" she asks, looking around. "I don't know the criminals from the normal folk around her yet." Which is mostly true. She doesn't know which of the people in this gathering have committed crimes yet. With the crazy starting to happen, she doesn't notice Swivel, who is her partner in the not-crime of giving disposables names.


Then Deadlock steps forward. Okay, apparently the criminal is Tall, Dark, and Gloomy. Who woulda thunk it? Okay, Moonlight isn't surprised. The question is...what the hell is she going to do about it? At the moment, her inclination is NOTHING.


Okay, maybe not nothing. Sighing, Moonlight starts scooping up some of the smaller individuals, the ones that are the most threatened by a possible trampling. If she gets enough room to transform, she'll do so. Full sized Cybertronians probably wouldn't fit well, but she'll be able to help more small sized individuals in her cargo-copter form.



The squadron leader narrows his optics at Deadlock when he -appears- to just give up right away. But then...there was that bit about 'next time'.


...there isn't supposed to -be- a next time.


The police aren't stupid, they know his record. He would -never- just turn himself in. "Ha! Too bad for you, there won't -be- a next time." The mech doesn't hesitate. He fires while he still has the chance to catch Deadlock off-guard as much as possible.



-Combat- Prowl hits Deadlock with a ranged attack!



There's another member of "Team Trouble" here right now, but so far his very small form has helped him stay clear of notice. Hovering back in the crowd, Rewind scurries to the side as a larger mech nearly steps on him in some panic as the Enforcers appear. "Hey! Watch it!" he protests, then finds a small podium to scramble up on for a better view- just as the Enforcer fires a shot at Deadlock. Rewind is, of course, capturing this all on film.



"That's no-... ya dun-... I'm no-..." These interjections get nowhere as she tries to explain to Hot Rod that she isn't here for his rabble rousing. And then she's unable to say anything when he STOPS talking, because now there are enforcers everywhere. Her hands tighten even more on the letter for a moment as she looks at Moonlight suspiciously. But, then Deadlock steps forward, and she swivels her head (see what I did just there?) to look at him. Oh. Guess Moonlight hadn't had the chance to do something criminal on Cybertron yet. Her bad. Hoowever, when she looks back at Hot Rod, holding the letter addressed to him, she catches HIS suspicious look. "Ugh, yer worse 'en Megatron!" she says in exasperation and throws the letter down at Hot Rod's feet. But she isn't going to refuse his instructions. 


Swivel claps her hands and begins to call out to the people. "C'mon, C'mon! Le's get gone safely 'en outter th'law's way so 'they kin do their EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!" 


Gun fire tends to make Swivel edgy, and she nearly hops up on Moonlight's back. But she doesn't. Her feet remain planted firmly on the ground. Anyone who had been almost listening to her were no longer hearing her. All they heard was shots fired and full panic ensued. Swivel isn't big or strong enough to help carry smaller robots from being under foot. In fact, she's in danger of being trampled herself. Yeah. Lots of help Swivel is, but this isn't her function.



"Ha!" Deadlock shouts in laughter, though the Autobot manages to fire a round on him and actually strike him on the shoulder. "I knew you came here to kill me, not arrest me!" He leaps to the side now, stepping up onto a table and drawing his blaster, his expression devious. "Well, then, so be it." He opens fire on the police squad. "Hard way, heh. For you, maybe." 


Then he transforms and drives for the exit of the ramshackle building, hoping to draw the police away from the Nyonian rebels. "<Hot Rod, make sure they don't hurt anyone else. And stay safe>"



-Combat- Deadlock hits Prowl with a ranged attack!



Pivoting to see where Rewind has gotten to, Hot Rod looks openly relieved to spot him atop a podium rather than trampled underfoot. He tosses off a quick salute in his direction and calls, "Thanks!" after Moonlight. To Swivel he can only address a bewildered, "What'd I do?" as he scoops up the letter to subspace it unread. He doesn't even have the time to give it a baffled eyeballing, because those Autobot /menaces/ are shooting Drift. Deadlock. Whatever. It's complicated.


Twisting to look after Deadlock as he transforms and drives off, Hot Rod looks for a moment like he's going to follow. FRIEND. MUST FOLLOW FRIEND. And yet--. The reminder of others turns his gaze back to the crowd. Hot Rod answers with a quickly commed, << I'll try. And I'll try and slow them down. >> He lunges toward the Enforcers with a destined-to-fail, "Wait! You can't shoot! The building is going to collapse!" It's a lie, but everything in Nyon is such a ruin, is it really /that/ much of a lie? Do they risk it? (They probably risk it.)


The crowds are worst at the doors, of course, where the mass narrows to funnel out into the street, transform, and drive away amid claims of, "Police brutality!" and "Did you see him just shoot him? He had his hands up!" Autobots need better PR. No Nyonian challenges the airborne squad vehicles. They make their exits by foot, or wheel, or tread. More of them get out of Deadlock's way than not, at least. Some of the bolder are eyeing the Enforcers for their NAKED AGGRESSION. POLICE BRUTALITY. etc. etc.



"Swivel, just guide them toward me; or climb up and give directions from up here," the cargo-copter version of Moonlight says. "Hey you, over there, with the camera, get your little aft over here. It's not safe." And Moonlight isn't reverent. "If you really want to catch all this, you can sit up front."


It might not be the most comfortable ride the smaller Cybertronians would have had, but it still probably beats trampling. Moonlight is built for hauling around things more than people.


Only when she's full will she try to get out of there. True, taking to air might not be wise, but on the other hand, it's not wise to stay here. She's banking on a couple things. Firstly, their main target is Deadlock. Secondly, she has almost no weaponry in her alt mode so she probably doesn't look threatening. Thirdly, she's full of small, unthreatening individuals. What could go wrong? Also, while she might not have good weaponry, she's pretty good at dodging the attacks of otehrs.



Thundercracker is flying along minding his own business, which is how most trouble usually starts when he notices several law enforcement vehicles hovering in the air over a group of mechs and... was that laserfire? The Vos mech wing overs and circles back to see whats going on.


As he drops down and circles to get a better look at the stampede? out of a rusted building and thinks he recognizes the mech that seems to be in the middle of this. Deadlock? And then there's a flash of bright and flames. "Hot Rod?" Curious the Sonic master drops down even lower to get a better look at whats going on.



There is only one recourse for Swivel. Crouch down and curl tightly into a ball. Or do as Moonlight suggest and guide them to her. She tries a few times to try and guide them, with yells, and in some cases, physically grabbing people and spinning them to keep their momentum, sending them running, confused, in the direction of Moonlight. But these efforts seem so insignificant in all of the chaos. While Swivel is attending to one very hysterical femme, two other larger mechs who had been leaping out of Dreadlock's way slam right into her. They all fall down, entangled in one another as the four of them, Swivel, two mechs and a femme roll along the ground until they are forcibly stopped by a wall. Swivel in particular lands in a rather awkward position. The tops of her tires, and ones side of her head, for her neck is bent at an injurious angle, are the only things touching the ground. The rest of her back is slammed up against the wall. On the ground in front of her in a supine position is the femme who is shrieking in new pitches of hysteria, trying to stand, only to trip over the mech whose arm ended up laying heavily across her lower legs. Another mech has his back on the ground, and his aft snugly fitting into an aft-shaped dent in the wall, his legs jutting comically up in the air. What a mess.



Police brutality, pff. These people have no idea what Deadlock has done. He's -dangerous-. Prowl, in the meantime, is overseeing the operation from one of the squad vehicles hovering outside the building. He watches as the ground unit tears after Deadlock as he fires at them and makes a run of it, keeping a bead on him. The shot takes out a chunk of one of the officer's armor, however, they pursue him undeterred. Though they aren't -trying- to harm any bystanders, they certainly aren't being very gentle, either, as they push and shove the Nyonians aside. "Out of the way! Wouldn't want to get charged with obstruction of justice, would you?" One of them barks half-jokingly. It isn't funny though, because they technically -could- do it, if they really wanted.


The squadron leader takes to the air, flying just over the heads of the crowds to catch up with Deadlock. "Even if you get away -this- time, you can't escape justice forever. Maybe we would have just arrested you...if you didn't have that -amazing- track record of yours!"



-Combat- Prowl hits Deadlock with a ranged attack!



Rewind returns Hot Rod's gesture with a wave... then suddenly hears someone addressing him and turns to look at Moonlight. Huh? The small mech blinks, then *oohs*. She *would* give him a great view- and she's right, this place is pretty chaotic right now. Rewind grins under the faceplate and hops off his podium to run up to her and her passengers. 


"Hi! Name's Rewind. I would *love* to get an aerial view of all this!" He taps on the camera at the side of his helmet, "This is *history* in the making! Or, well, it /could/ be." He's perfectly happy to clamber on up and into the front seat.



Also, they IGNORE Hot Rod.



Thundercracker notices one of the enforcers take to the air and decides to track him. "I know shooting ground mechs is fun and all, but you're shooting at the wrong one." he closes in on the law enforcement mech as he radios to Deadlock <"Hey, what have you gotten yourself into? And was that blue of bright and flames Hot Rod?">



Swivel remains upside down and dazed while the chaos continues.



From her place in the air, Moonlight has a pretty good view of what's happening; this means that Rewind ALSO has a good view. While it would be the most prudent to get away, she is curious to see the law in action. Do Prowl's words hold up under scrutiny? Though she's listening for what's going on inside of her too; she doesn't want to be forced to the ground because her passengers start getting hysterical.



"That's not /justice/," says Hot Rod, going to get in the way of the Enforcer threatening to arrest people for obstruction. "You're firing on a mech who'd already surrendered to you!" He makes a big show out of helping the Nyonians who've been shoved to the side back to their feet, which basically means he gets in the Enforcer's way a lot. Swivel turns out to be one of those knocked topsy-turvy, and he offers her a hand. 


A quick glance around shows the crowd thinning fast, and the most vulnerable have largely been scooped up by Moonlight. When he spots her ascending, Hot Rod casts a relieved glance in her direction -- at which point he spots Thundercracker. Surprise writes itself in bold letters across his features. He ... eases away from the Enforcers to call to the Seeker: "Thundercracker! Nice timing!"



"Ngh," Deadlock mutters as police force continues to attack and yet another shot grazes his side, charring his armor and causing some of his plating to loosen. "<You'd better not just try. If you die, I'm going to resurrect you just so I can beat you over your thick helm with the barrel of my gun fifty times. And get organized, Primus, this bunker is a chaotic mess>" 


Deadlock keeps driving, hoping to shake his pursuers, but to no avail, so he finally protoforms and climbs to the to of ramshackle Nyonian building (probably not the best life choice, but eh, all the building are like this, what's a guy to do?). "I know, it's /incredible/, isn't it?" He laughs, and opens fire on pile of unstable cans of stale engex, causing them to collapse and explode in the general direction of the Autobots. 


To Thundercracker, he radios. "<Dude. Autobots. Kill them. I got your back later>"



-Combat- Deadlock hits Prowl with a ranged attack!



The other Nyonians who had tumbled with Swivel into the wall are eager for the hand up that Hot Rod offers them, and one by one they disentangle themselves and make their way to the exits as fast as they can, although one of them can't seem to run in a straight line. Swivel on the other hand has rapidly flickering optics and does not seem sensible of the hand offered to her. Teeter. Wobble. DOWN SHE GOES! The mess around her is what kept her propped up on the wall, and now with them gone, her body falls forward, and if Hot Rod doesn't move, he'll end up with her pedes in his face. Actually, any way he would try to catch her he'd probably end up holding her in some awkward position that, if not for the seriousness of the situation, would compromise people's opinion of him.



<"Not a problem, Deadlo -- hey, what do you mean by later?"> Thundercracker radios back as he lines up the enforcer in the air and fires at him.



"Surrendered? Yeah -right-. Clearly you don't know him. And I guess -you- somehow have the right to tell us what justice is?" One of them scoffs at Hot Rod, because he keeps -getting in the way-.


As the squadron leader follows Deadlock onto the roof, the cans explode, knocking the weapon he's wielding out of his hand. It falls to the ground, and instead of reaching for a sidearm, he chooses to simply -lunge- at the Decepticon in an attempt to knock him off of his perch. "Listen you scum," he snarls. "One way or another, you're going to answer for what you've done. You -will- learn your rightful place on his planet!"



-Combat- Prowl misses Deadlock with a melee attack!



Rewind enjoys his view as Moonlight lifts into the air. "Woah- look at this!", he exclaims, pointing at the Enforcers down below, "What an amazing Aerialbot's view. Look how... ha ha, look how *small* they look!" He's used to being looked down on by others, both literally and figuratively. It's nice to turn the tables and feel like the BIG mech for once.



"I know--" Hot Rod draws himself together to make a really impassioned, super convincing speech that's going to be all high words and big ideas and...and...and then there's Swivel. In his face. And everywhere. His Enforcer-distraction is forcibly sidelined so that he can catch her as she tumbles, and then try to get her back on her feet with minimal damage to either of their dignity. "Swivel, you okay?"



"Glad you're enjoying the ride," Moonlight says to her front-seat passenger. "Making good use of that camera of yours?" Yeah, now might not be the best time for casual conversation, but she's a casual kind of femme. Also, if she doesn't sound worried she hopes her other passengers will try to remain calm. Despite her apparent lack of caring, she's actually devoting some of her mind to some serious thoughts. Which she sort of resents, but there's little help for it. Carefully she backs up a bit and then lifts a little higher to give Rewind a different vantage. She's being very careful to hover out of the way, not wanting to be hauled in for 'obstructing' justice. If she's going to get hauled in, it might as well be for something she actually does on purpose.



Deadlock laughs and dodges the Enforcer, aiming a well directed blast right at the mech's face. "Ha, looks like you finally found yours," he says with a smirk. He leaps down off the building and transforms, speeding the street, away from the other members of the squadron. "<Later as in if you find yourself in a jam with a bunch of slaggers in stuck in your tailpipe, call me I'll be over in a klik. Oh, and make sure the crazy kid with the terrible flame job doesn't die. That's my boy>"



-Combat- Deadlock misses Prowl with a ranged attack!



Being right side up is certainly a nice change. However, Swivel's head seems to be perpetually tilted to one side. Her Optics finally manage to resume a more consistent glow, and the femme doesn't seem overly stable on her feet. She clings to Hot Rod for a moment, before easing herself to the stability of the very wall she had crashed into. Her mouth works, but there seems to be a delay in her vocoder, which glitches between pitches. "I.....THInk....ssssssssssssssssssssssumthINNs brOKed ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhffffvvvvzzzzzzzt. Ca..." she continues to mouth words but no noise comes out.



Somehow, 'well directed' isn't at all well directed. Or maybe it was, but the Enforcer manages to dodge the blast. He jumps down after Deadlock, and the squadron continues pursuing him as he makes way away from the city, the aircraft following as well. Fortunately for the rest of them, they haven't been nailed on guilt by association. Yet.



"No kidding." Hot Rod presses a hand to Swivel's shoulder as she leans against the wall. "Just stay put. Once everything settles down, I'll help you -- and anyone else who needs it -- get repairs." As waits to make sure she's steady before sweeping the space to make sure there aren't any other injured bots as Decepticons and Autobots race off.



Rewind grins under his faceplate, "Yes, thank you! This is very kind of you. What was your name?" He asks conversationally, all the while his camera is zooming in and out and panning and getting all kinds of great footage.



Swivel has no objection to staying leaned up against a wall for now. There really is little else to do.



"Moonlight," answers the cargo-copter. "Some pretty crazy stuff going on, hm? This seems to be pretty common around here, yeah?" Okay, so maybe coming here for her 'safety' wasn't the best idea, but she's not exactly known for her long term planning skills. She's more of a 'spur of the moment' thinker when it comes to herself.



Rewind says "Moonlight. That's a pretty name!" The small mech then nods, "Yeah... just one more day in Nyon, really. It's nice though... never boring. I've been getting a LOT of great footage since I came here!" Then he focuses back on his video footage, capturing this all for posterity."

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