[ open ]

[fugitrix]

WHO: Arcee & anyone
WHERE: Mostly Leige's place, but she's going to be checking other places. Please note where they're at!
WHEN: Over the week
WHAT: Arcee scouting around, clinging to buildings, invading ceilings and vents, perching on roofs, and generally spying on people and being awkward.
WARNINGS: None currently?


[ 01. Leige's Temple ]

So this was Cybertron. Not her Cybertron, but a fresh, new one. Barely touched, not like their reformatted home. Arcee had listened to the drone because she had recognized for what it was, because she had little other choice but to listen if she wanted answers. But every answer just lead to more questions. Who were these Thirteen and what did this Leige want with her?

The branding she'd cut into her shoulder still hurt, but it was the other brand she picked at. If there was one thing that Cybertron had taught her, is that she had to fight to belong; it didn't come easy, and when it did, it generally it was never under favorable circumstances. She didn't trust easy, had no reason to trust Leige. Better to gain the advantage first before sticking out her neck. Times like this, she missed the simplicity of hunting Jhiaxus and the driving rage.

Leige's territory was cold outside of the tower. Much colder than she was used to on Cybertron; more cold like the brush of the Dead Universe. Her plating was tucked seamless against her frame, trapping in heat as she scaled the outside of the tower. What heat her plating let escape, the cloth she had covered herself in took care of the rest. A high point allowed her to get a better look at the area, get a better bearing of the territory. She needed to know her knew stomping grounds.

It was always easier to come into private places from the outside; nobody usually expected break-ins this high up. It wasn't just for fun. Arcee tried windows, crawled into vents, and slipped into rooms to sort through and read whatever information she could find. She tucked away items that looked dangerous, important, valuable. Whatever she could use.

[ooc: Arcee's p good at this. She probably won't be seen looking through junk unless she wants to be seen, but I'm k with working things out. ]

----

[ 02. Junk Pile ]

It was hard to miss the large pile of junk and debris in the middle of the Haven. The first time Arcee laid eyes upon it, she briefly wondered how it got so big. The population didn't seem large enough to produce that much waste-- it was like it all fell from the sky like she did, although she couldn't see anything dropping. She'd never say she wasn't a curious mech.

It took some picking through, but the pile of junk held some interesting finds. If she picked around long enough, sometimes she'd find something mostly undamaged and completely alien to her. She tugs down the cloth mask she wore, hunching over some tiny machine, trying to figure out the purpose of it. She pushes down the lever, her thick winglets tensing at the following series of clicks. When it dings roughly a minute later, her automatic reaction was to slam a hand down on it, crunching it beneath her palm.

Ah, well. How was she supposed to know it wasn't dangerous?

She vents, rolling her shoulders and scowls down at the broken machine. She still didn't really get the point of it. She pushes it aside, then starts sorting through the junk again.

Comments

Liege's!

[angleofscience]

The only reason he even noticed something was off was because he was flying back to Liege's temple, and the easiest and closest entrance to his room that didn't involve the main entrance took him flying past his window.

And even so, seeing a glancing shadow in there wouldn't have alarmed him; Starscream could more often than not be found in there, after all. What made him pause and backtrack was the fact that the briefly seen sihouette was completely wrong.

So he waited for his... ah, visitor to get back out, hovering outside, arms crossed.

"I believe the door is the usual entrance used for these matters, isn't it?"

[fugitrix]

Usually she's in and out, but this room has plenty to look through. Arcee's not even mildly concerned that the inhabitant might come by either-- she doesn't quite know the feeling of fear anymore. So, it comes as no surprise that she has a wildly annoyed looking shuttle waiting for her outside the window when she moves to climb back out.

She recognizes the mech. At least, remembers the familiarity of the frame, from back in rehab in old Garrus-9. That was from another time, another life, when the rage and pain had made her thoughts swim in a cacophony of images and feelings.

"Doors have locks."

Simple enough.

"I go where I want to go."

[angleofscience]

"For a reason, yes. If you were curious, it would be, ah, polite to wait until the owner comes back." Jetfire frowns slightly as he looks her over, what he can see...

Well, he hasn't seen Arcee around much - she started to contribute actively late in the war, after the Ark left, but he'd been aware of her and this one shares some features, a conclusion drawn mostly from the design of her helm and the colours visible.

"... You're an alternate of Arcee, aren't you?"

The Junk Pile

[invisiblepinkboat]

It wasn't often Elita spent much time attempting to sift through the junk in the middle of the Haven anymore, but going through it was still the most effective way of getting to other quadrants.

So that was what she was doing, cutting through the Junk Pile on her way to elsewhere, though for the moment she was walking, keeping an eye on any possible interesting things. She hadn't spotted Arcee yet, but it'd probably happen, unless the other mechs spots her first.

[fugitrix]

For someone as new as Arcee, the junk pile was still a treasure trove of intrigue. The thousands of deca-cycles floating in the peaceful void of half-life in the F-Wing of Garrus-9 hadn't quite done much to expose her to the myriad of life and culture of the galaxy. The bloody path she'd carved before hadn't done much but teach her how to kill.

Perhaps it makes sense she finds the most interesting thing she's ever laid optics on in this pile.

Arcee spots Elita's movements first, crouching low as she observes the other cybertronian. There's something weird about her, something different. It makes her anxious; she feels that difference, that connection, but without the taint of Jhiaxus. She'd be able to feel him. Maybe, that was what perfection looked like.

She tugs up the cloth, covering her face as she stands.

"Who are you?"

[invisiblepinkboat]

She thought there'd been someone else here - she'd be a pretty worthless recon specialist if she'd let herself get completely surprised by someone not quite seen.

So she stops, eyeing the other and while the cloth is mostly in the way - something in the silouhette is... not quite the same as most cybertronians. Familiar, like a few others have been around here.

"Elita One. You're new." She tilts her helm in inquiry, curious... and whoever it is is also pink from the plating she can see. Inexplicably Elita thinks of the number of times she's been mistaken for someone else. Her back-mounted panels flex, somewhat restlessly, at that.

[maxic temple] 8D

[fun_police]

Arcee might find a familiar face from that high perch she's using to observe the temple. Or rather, a familiar Cybertronian frame with a familiar black and white coloration that seemed to blend in a little too well with the frost and stone of the quadrant.

Prowl was unaware of her presence, and wasn't particularly in the frame of mind to give any attention to ghosts that might be scaling the temple walls. He was here, unsurprisingly, strictly for business. Business that required entering the maze-like interior of the inner temple.

Of course, a change of plans may be in order, should she choose to reveal herself.

[fugitrix]

Now, how could she forget that face? Especially when she last saw it only a few hours earlier, a bit more battle warn, scratched, and world weary than his appearance currently. The Prowl she left would welcome her (at least, she was sure), but this Prowl may turn her away.

It's for that reason, Arcee chooses to observe quietly first. She'd managed the grasp the idea of time distortion, of parallel universes; probably better than others, since she's brushed both herself.

Her optics follow Prowl until he disappears within the building, and then she makes her move, sliding down the peak of the tower. Her feet touch down in the snow, muffling her fall as he drops down behind her former friend. The idea was to follow him, get an idea of where he was going.

[fun_police]

Her drop on the snow seems to go unnoticed by Prowl, who continues within the temple. The crystalline walls, while enigmatic, seem to telegraph some sort of direction to the white Autobot. It was clear enough that he was familiar with traversing the maze-like hallways, and only takes a brief moment to choose a path.

Of course, while he didn't lend any particular attention to any sounds that might give her away (it was a rather publicly accessible area of the temple, after all), that would change once he begins to go deeper into the maze.

For now, he seemed unaware (or unbothered) of the fact someone might be tailing him.

Junk Pile

[arnhaid]

He hadn't seen the girl in a few days. Which, in a place like this, probably wasn't a good thing. He had to go out and check on her, regardless of how angry it was going to make the kid. He'd be a pretty poor Autobot not to look after the helpless... right?

So there he was, idly shoving bits and piles of junk around, and keeping an eye out for a little organic frame. Kid had to be around here somewhere, right?

Yeah. She was just hiding, probably having a tantrum. Kids did that.

"Sure they do..." he muttered, mostly to himself, unaware of any company other than his intended target.

[fugitrix]

For all the new faces, seems Arcee was running into plenty of familiar ones. Ironhide looked different -- looked like his old self, before his frame upgrades -- but he was still Ironhide. He sounded the same, and as she watched him move around piles of junk, she realized he acted fairly the same too.

They had never been close. Not like the way Arcee was close with Prowl and Hardhead, not like how she believed she was close with Sideswipe, Bumblebee. Still Ironhide was one of those mechs that even she had trouble not respecting, even if he expected the impossible from her. Decepticons. The worst of their race. She'd never accept them.

"Looking for something?" She asks, keeping low to the ground, crouched with her hands pressed to the filth beneath.

[arnhaid]

... the scrap?

He'd been here alone a second ago. Who else was even skulking around here? His hand went for a weapon, mostly without thinking about it. Turning around didn't really help matters, considering whoever it was happened to be hunched up like a spider and... well.

Were they wearing a robe?

"What're--" Okay, no not the best approach. "Who're you?"

The junk pile

[raceme]

[There were some high pitched sounds in the distance, coming from behind a pile of debris located a few feet away from Arcee.]

YipyipyipYIPYIPYIPyipyipyiiipyipyip! [Whatever it was, boy, didn't it sound excited? A different voice joined it, although that one spoke just as fast, if no more.]

YesFrankyesINOTICED but...no NO no put that down! I don't think it's sa-ni-ta-ry and.....yes that's better. Good boy.

[fugitrix]

It's been millions of years since Arcee had seen a turbofox that wasn't one of the monstrous mutations that new Cybertron had to offer. For a few moments, she didn't really recognize what she was seeing or hearing. She slowly puts down the crumbling robot toy in her hand and gets to her feet. She's got bits of broken things clinging to the cloth, streaks of rust; she doesn't seem to mind.

"Your pet?"

[raceme]

Blurr picks up the can of food Frank found in the junkpile and stores it in his chest compartment. Organic food is really scarce in the planet and they have to keep looking for more every now and then. A can isn't much but it's not expired and Blurr imagines that pineapples are something humans eat.

"Ah? Hello." Blurr turns to face the owner of the new voice while Frank is trying to catch some of Solus's bugs that fly around.

Blurr gives the other mech a smile. "Yes, his name _{is Frank. A} nervous and loud pet at that, but a good companion."

Liege's :D

[catwoman]

Arcee wasn't the only one sneaking about ... or the only one dressed up as they snuck about. Catwoman enjoyed prowling the various temples looking for her own sort of answers, though it was much more difficult for someone of her size to travel from place to place.

It was, however, pretty easy for her to creep about. Slipping through shafts and other small areas made her appreciate the size difference between herself and the large robots of this planet.

Of course she hadn't expected to end up in a room at roughly the same time as a certain pink and white robot. She always hated when kinks popped in her plans.

"Uh ... wrong room. Oops?"

[fugitrix]

The one thing about sneaking around and breaking into things that Arcee certainly expected the possibility of being caught, but not really the possibility of running into someone else with the same idea. As Arcee's pedes drop down, she stares across the room at the tiny alien in front of her.

Arcee's never seen a human before. She's not sure what she's looking at.

Looks fairly weak, though. That armor doesn't look all that protective either. Arcee raises an optic ridge.

"Looks like we have the same idea?"

Liege

[treacherous_widow]

[For a bot Blackarachnia's size, she prides herself on knowing exactly what's going on around her. So when a shadow darted across her peripheral,she paused in the experiment she was doing with the strangely marked canisters she had recently acquired.

The black widow glanced towards the source of the shadow and frowned. Who would be outside her window this high up? Whoever it was, they would be in for a surprise if they tried to steal anything of hers.

Blackarachnia quickly switched over to her beast mode and made herself scarce, hiding like only a spider can as her eyes surveyed the room from the shadows. If the intruder knew what was good for them, they'd think twice about entering a spider's lair. Especially one as scientifically minded as her.

Weapon parts and diagrams littered the room, most of the drawings humans sized, with some bigger ones stuck to the wall. The mechanical components varied in size, but more than a few of them looked like they belonged to some sort of weapon. In the corner of the room was a chained up centipede just laying there comatose for the time being. It was a rather nasty "pet" that the widow had picked up.

And strangely, there were various jars of different colored fluids lining what shelves were present in the room. All with various labels. To some this place might be interesting, to others it might be horrifying. ]

[fugitrix]

Arcee was beginning to notice a pattern with the rooms in the building. She wasn't a scientist by far -- in fact, she found it normally rather distasteful -- but she had lived long enough under Jhiaxus's scrutiny to recognize the belongings of one. Most of the things she found were harmless, but as she slipped into this room, she only needed a cursory glance to tell there were some interesting things inside.

The centipede was ignored, no matter how much it looked to be a threatening monstrosity, in favor of looking at some of the diagrams on the wall. Much of the drawings were too small for her-- it only took two fingers to smooth out papers. Not much of it made sense to her, but it was likely valuable. And plans like these were usually irreplaceable.

"Jackpot," she hums, then turns to look at some of the jars.

[treacherous_widow]

Blackarachnia's eyes narrowed when she got a good look at the intruder. Another bot and from what she could tell, this one knew the value of being sneaky. Those were always the more dangerous ones. Especially when they locked optics on her weapon's plans. Yes, she could simply just redraw them and let the other bot take what was on the wall.

But they were hers.

The sound of legs skittering across metal echoes through the room as she moves through the shadows and clutter. Let the other bot know there was someone or.. something in the room with her. If she was smart, she might even look up.. and notice a ceiling full of blue webbing with what looks like various energon cubes stored amongst the blue.

As for Blackarachnia, once she finds a safe spot, she switches modes again and pulls out her gun. She loads a triple dose of her cyber venom and hopes that's strong enough to paralyze the intruder.

Then it's just waiting for the opportune shot.

junk pile uvu/

[rednotbluethx]

Frenzy spends most of his time in the junk pile, when he's not running about trying to instigate fights with everyone. He found a lot of stuff here - most of it, indeed, junk. But occasionally there'd turn up something cool. You just had to dig for it. And digging he had been for nearly an hour now, growing more and more impatient at all the rubbish and needles or diamonds or golden nuggets.

But, wait-- Oh, hey. It seemed there was a golden nugget dropped from the sky. From a distance, he couldn't see much of Arcee, shrouded and working away. But, hey... If this was someone new, Frenzy should go introduce himself. And... maybe instigate a fight.

"Hey!" Frenzy shouted, making his way over, spilling more garbage around. "If yer lookin' fer any weapons, stop an' keep yer hands off. I got here first!" What a great way to introduce yourself, Frenzy.

[fugitrix]

The junk pile was still new and novel to Arcee. She didn't really 'get out' much, so her picking through the trash was with childish wonder. Most of the things she found were interesting, even if they didn't function. She was in the middle of pulling apart a go-cart when Frenzy starts to approach her.

She, of course, identifies him as Rumble. The memory of way she took out his arms not too long ago just makes her smile, but then again, Rumble should also be dead. Slag took care of that.

"I don't need weapons. Rumble."

She doesn't move. If anything, she just makes herself more relaxed to irritate him.

[rednotbluethx]

"But that's my ter-- Wait!" Oh, goddammit. Frenzy stops a short distance from her, totally unafraid. "It ain't Rumble! It ain't fraggin'-- It ain't like me an' my bro are the only people who share a damn frame!"

Frenzy really shouldn't get so riled up over this, but perhaps it's a combination of the constant confusion as well as the reminder that Rumble isn't here that makes him really, really angry. "Rumble's blue! I'm fraggin' red!" He thrusts a thumb against his chest. "Frenzy! Frenzy! An' who the Hell are you, huh?" Because, yeah, can't really see enough to possibly identify you.

...i forgot to hit post. this has been open for days /fails

[headgames]

It's been a while since he got back to this Haven place, and still he couldn't remember scrap. Just the little bits he'd figured out when he'd first woken up in the wastelands after his processor had stopped aching. He was here before, he remembered a few incredibly vague moments and that was it, that was the extent of his knowledge.

Combining that with the fact that the other Dinobot here was Swoop - but not just any Swoop, some wannabee Swoop - didn't help his already short temper. And his room and everything in it was in desperate need of repair. Something he'd have to get to eventually.

Precisely why he was rummaging around in the junk pile. Picking up bits and pieces of metal, looking them over, and then tossing them aside with a curse and kicking the pile when it wasn't something he wanted. At if that would help anything. At least he wasn't melting things out of anger yet, though it wasn't stopping his curses from being rather loud.

:1 and i let this sit for forever

[fugitrix]

Adjusting to a new setting had been almost as difficult as finding her place after exile. Outwardly, she was functioning. Inwardly, she was still reeling from the assortment of new faces, species, happenings, and codes of society. Things didn't function here like she had come to adjust to on Cybertron, and no one yet has remembered anything that went on. Prowl was from a... much earlier time. A time before everything went to slag.

Speaking of Slag.

Arcee recognizes the voice instantly, her head snapping up to attention. Her optics scan the piles of junk, looking for a familiar shape. Not easy, since the junk spanned for miles and the Dynobot's coloration blended in with the assortment of rust and gray. At the very least, she was used to this-- it was what she did -- and then she sees him.

"Slag?" she finds herself calling before she can consider her cover. Slag was a Dynobot and while they weren't close, at the very least she understood how Dynobots functioned. She could use some understanding at the moment.