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Post by Boxer 502 on Sat Aug 02, 2014 10:37 am

The deep crimson Pagani Huayra sped across the Mojave Desert, it's high-torque and powerful V12 engine keeping plenty of traction on the dusty roads. The Decepticon had recently picked up the Spark of another of his kind out here and he wanted to know why. Most of the Decepticon's were in more urban areas to remain hidden and avoid drawing attention. Given the extreme temperatures in this part of the planet, Stinger could understand why this would be a viable hiding spot, devoid of most human life...but if it was an Autobot, then of course it had to be eliminated. After all, that was the very purpose of its existence. Stinger had not been "born" as the other Transformers had been, he had been forged with human hands and made better. Every imperfection, every fault that the Autobots and Decepticon's suffered from...it had improved on.

Nearing a set of ridges and mountains, the Decepticon figured it was as good a place as any to begin it's search. The Italian Sports car threw on its brakes, spinning the car until it was moving nearly sideways...before the chassis itself began to come apart, piece by piece. Almost like a mechanical snake of individual parts now, the stream of metal and circuitry flowed through the air before sweeping back to the dusty ground and spinning like a tornado of alloy.

As the flurry of parts increased in speed, a being began to take shape in it's center. Each red, silver and black block of metal fitting into it's respective location with blinding speed. Within seconds, Stinger had transformed completely and now stood at its full height, the red and black chassis shining in the hot sun. Green eyes scanned the landscape from beneath his crimson face-plate, searching for any movement, as its long legs moved the Decepticon across the landscape with ease.

Boxer 502

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Post by Dragonfly on Sat Aug 02, 2014 1:01 pm

The deep, reflective green was but a mere streak on the deserted road winding through the desert.  Old Spanish Trail Highway was always empty, well, ninety-five percent of the time. The five percent of activity was usually some loner on a trek, or a human family whose patriarch decided the scenic route was better for the family. Today, the only life on the road was a custom built Harley sport with a fatback and an engine that defied the rules.

For Steelheart, though, it was the closest thing to freedom she could experience.  Today, she was east bound, the plateau on one side, small "mountains" on the other.  More like extra large hills, but humans deemed anything that took effort to climb as a mountain.  The curve in the road approached, slightly south and she leaned into the curve and felt the heat off the road radiate up towards her. The sun glinted off the silver accents and she seemed to wink back at the sun.  She kicked it up a gear as the road straightened out, now hitting 160mph and the air sung for her.

Soon enough, the road curved north and she hugged it, speeding up slowly towards her goal.  Now, at 170mph, the road curved east and she kicked it once more, pushing it to 185mph.  Screw the Gentleman's Agreement, humans were idiots for not letting their wings spread and live. And there it was...

She turned off the road, heading for the hill, her back wheel evening up with her front as she slid sideways.  At the base of the hill, she revved once, the short burst launching her into the air, just above the ground.  Initiating change, she felt every part of her move, stretch and shift until her feminine curves matched the road she just left.

Reaching out, Steelheart planted her right hand into the ground, flipping her body until she landed on her feet.  Skidding and kicking up a massive cloud of dust, she felt her self slow abruptly, then stop.  When the dust finally settled, she was an inch from the outcropping of rock at the top. She smiled.

"Yeah, I can stop on a frickin' dime."


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Post by Boxer502 on Sun Aug 03, 2014 9:48 pm

Stinger turned its head sharply to the direction of the cloud of dust. An attack? No, no rounds or missiles followed. The Decepticon figured then whatever was hiding out here was so confident in it's cover, that it would never expect his presence. Raising its arm, Stinger fired a grappling cable from his wrist and embedded the sharp blade into mountain's side. Now, retracting the cable and climbing with his free hand, the 'Con made decent time climbing up to get a better view. As it came over the ridge and the dust cleared slowly, Stinger's optics widened in surprise.

It had expected a cybertronian, yes...but not the kind he found. She was small, even more so then it was, and Stinger wasn't the largest of the Bots that had been made by KSI. Her form curved like something it had never seen and shone with a chrome green-silver color. Even using it's face-plate to get a magnified view of her, the 'Con saw no insignia upon her from this angle. Better to find out instead of risking her attacking him on sight.

Climbing over the ridge the rest of the way and sliding down some to a ledge that protruded from the mountain-side, it spoke. Stinger's voice was metallic and cold, not devoid of emotion, but more devoid of sympathy and remorse...

"Put your servos up in the air and tell me your name." It said, loud enough that she could hear him clearly, even through its face-plate. Either she'd listen and Stinger could search her front for any emblems...or she'd attack and it would simply dispatch her, as was per its purpose.


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