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Post by Arctic on Oct 18, 2009 21:38:20 GMT -5
An F-15 flew over an air force base. Usually, the pilot of such a craft would have to radio in for clearance to land. Unfortunately, this jet didn't have a pilot, and the military had decommissioned this particular model of fighter jet long ago. Arctic was in complete control though, seeing as he was the plane, and he was coming in for a landing in this formerly abandoned air base. Arctic had come to this planet to serve his cause, and to demolish as many Autobots as possible.
The F-15, commonly nicknamed an Eagle long ago, was in a long bank, turning to come into the base parallel to the run way. He didn't bother to deploy his landing gear on his approach vector, even though he was less than 100 feet high, and was down to a landing speed. Down near the middle of the run way's distance, he transformed. His transformation was almost standard, for some reason, all jet's had one that was remarkably similar, if completely different. His legs unfolded from the center of his fuselage, the feet holding the thrusters from his jet form, whilst his wings folded up to combine with the rest of his fusilage that was forming into his torso while the arms unfolded from the bottom behind the cockpit on the sides, and his cockpit moved down with the nose cone to complete his chest. His transformation had been very fast, when he was finished, Arctic's foot thrusters were blasting strongly. They ceased, then they impacted the runway, with his entire body leaning back, using it to stop his forward movement. When it did cease, he stood up straight.
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Post by Vortex on Oct 20, 2009 15:55:40 GMT -5
Off to the side, a dark grey SH-2 Seasprite helicopter sat idlely, rotors spinning at a slow pace, not speeding up, or slowing to a stop. He had watched the jet come in for a landing, and let out a sigh. "Great...Another jet..." The copter wasn't very fond of jets, and with good reason. One of the smaller reasons being that, even though he was a flier, most of the jets seemed to elevate themselves above ones like himself. Sure, A jet could out-fly and out-maneuver a copter, but If a jet stopped moving, it fell out of the sky.
"Look what decided to drop in." The copter commented sarcastically. "Get bored of the sky already?" Due to his actions on an earlier mission, the copter was currently chained down by his landing gear, leaving him unable to take off, or transform. "Or did you come to tease the ground-pounders?
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Post by Arctic on Oct 20, 2009 20:14:09 GMT -5
Arctic looked over at the Decepticon. That was a bit more than amazing, This Decepticon was chained up. And he apparently had a problem with those jets on the Decepticon side. Arctic didn’t really feel like standing there, even if he was chatting, so he folded back up into his F-15 Eagle form. His pieces were folding apart and then together intricately, and that was what allowed him to go to this form. Arctic begun to taxi over to sit still, away from everything, all the crates sitting there, an equal distance from all the buildings and crates as possible, because he didn’t feel like impacting them if it became necessary to take off quickly. I actually just came to rest for now. But, I don’t see any Landlubbers here right now, ya get me? And what’s with the sarcasm Heli? He didn’t like the guy’s tone. He turned his sensory equipment to the helicopter. He was starting to wonder if this flyer was a Landlubber synthesizer. That always got him. The ground bound robots were not as versatile, they often had to rely on assistance to move long distances quickly enough. He’d never understand why these kinds of Transformers popped up as often as they did.
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Post by Vortex on Oct 20, 2009 21:38:19 GMT -5
The helicopter snorted, his tail rotor spinning quickly, then settling down. "Sarcasm? What sarcasm? I'm oh so happy to meet you!" His top rotor began turning rapidly, lifting him off the ground with its thrust, but his rise was quickly brought to a halt by the chains. "Look at me! I'm just giddy with joy!" Rocking back and forth against the chain, the copter began to shout. "'Let's all laugh at Vortex! The stupid slagger disobeyed orders, helping one of his team mates. Swindle, you fragging owe me big time, stupid Hummer!"
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Post by Arctic on Oct 21, 2009 19:38:00 GMT -5
The jet started shaking. Arctic was guffawing at what this helicopter was doing. He was bouncing around really. It wasn't that it was particullarly too funny, but that this robot was locked up for helping one of his buddies. A Landlubber at that. Why'd you help the Ground-Pounder in the first place?
{Sorry it's a little short.}
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Post by Vortex on Oct 21, 2009 20:48:21 GMT -5
Vortex would have glared, had he been in robot mode. "Swindle's my gestalt mate. You'd do the same thing for a gestalt mate, if you had one, that is." Having gotten a small rant out, Vortex had settled down, bringing himself back down, not that he was high up anyways. His rotors began to slow down. "I can't blame you for not knowing what it feels like, though. That must be awful." There was a mocking tone in Vortex's voice.
(sorry for my short post as well...)
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Post by Arctic on Oct 21, 2009 21:51:53 GMT -5
Arctic stopped shaking. You're right. I don't know what it's like to be a gestalt mate with a coupla Landlubbers. Arctic in a way pitied those ground-pounders. Arctic taxied his form around in a short twist. He could shoot this robot if he wanted to. Arctic watched the helicopter land again. Why're the group of you in the same gestalt anyway? That doesn't make sense to me.
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Post by Vortex on Oct 21, 2009 23:46:52 GMT -5
Vortex knew Arctic was in a position to fire on him, and the only thing he had to defend himself was his glue gun, since the machine guns were mounted alongside hit tail boom. "Why're you asking me? Fragging Screamer was the one who chose us for the gestalt. He threw us all together when we originally didn't want anything to do with each other!" Another snort came out of him, his tail rotor spinning wildly before calming down.
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Post by Arctic on Oct 23, 2009 11:54:13 GMT -5
Oh, it was Starscream who decided to place ya'll together? Well, I wouldn't have done it, but Starscream knew best. He taxied around, slowly. He was moving out of a firing posiition, but he didn't really care. For now, this Decepticon was just bored. He had to do something. If he didn't do anything, he would just sit there. He didn't know who had locked up Vortex, but if it was a Landlubber, he could fix it. Who locked you up anyway? A landlubber?
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Post by Vortex on Oct 23, 2009 14:39:06 GMT -5
Screamer knows best... Vortex throught. That's a good one... Vortex relaxed slightly as Arctic moved out of a firing position. "Worse." Vortex responded. "Barricade. He left, though. Don't know when he'll be back." Vortex let out a sigh, top rotor spinning slightly faster. "I'm supposed to stay out here all day, and if I leave before time's up, he promised to ground me for good..." A shudder went through Vortex's frame at the thought. He wasn't keen on holding a conversation with a jet, but there was nothing else to do. "I haven't seen you around here before. What's your designation?"
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Post by Arctic on Oct 26, 2009 14:34:54 GMT -5
Barricade is one ground-pounder who really needs to learn his place. Arctic's processor was really heating up. Arctic started waving his rudders. It was a way for him to focus energy while his proscessor cooled down so he didn't shoot off any missiles or or anything else. Arctic. Your designation? Arctic did carry a high number of different munitions, particularly in his vehicle form. What kinds of weapons do you have on you?
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Post by Vortex on Oct 27, 2009 12:07:16 GMT -5
"Vortex." He replied. "And I have two tri-barrel machine guns mounted along the sides of my tail boom, as well as a glue gun under my cockpit." He wiggled the gun around a bit, being unable to move the machine guns. In his robot mode, his rotors could function as weapons, but that was his secret. "So, you look like a bomber to me." He commented. "I don't know if I want to begins to contemplate what you've got on you." Of course, Vortex knew he wasn't really one to talk. As an interrogator, he had thousands of years worth of interrogations tools tucked away safely in subspace.
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Post by Arctic on Oct 27, 2009 18:36:29 GMT -5
The Gatling gun on the side of Arctic's right air intake fan started to spin slowly. I've got my machine gun and a couple of many missiles. You want to do some target practice? Shoot a target with your machine guns, I try to shoot the same target. A normal F-15 only carried somewhere between 400 and 1000 rounds. Arctic, being a crazed Decepticon, could carry more than that, and did. Plus, he could control the exact number he shot out of his gun. He also had that much more of control of his missiles than a normal human jet. So. Yay, or nay?
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Post by Vortex on Oct 28, 2009 12:37:54 GMT -5
"Can't." Vortex replied. "Machine guns are fixed. They only aim where I'm pointed." It was something Vortex hated. His glue gun, a non-lethal weapon, was the only thing he could aim freely, and it annoyed him to no end. "Glue gun can pivot, but it's distance isn't that good..." He checked his internal clock, and was relieved to find that his punishment was almost finished. "Give me a few, then I'll be able to."
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Post by Arctic on Nov 1, 2009 23:41:07 GMT -5
Aww. Arctic was really bored. And, when he got bored, he usually found something to do, sulked, or irritated someone. Just for a little bit of work, something to keep his processor working, he was repeatedly running diagnostic programming. After a short time of involving himself in this, Are you out yet? THe thing was, Arctic was so bored he'd probably ask this once every three to fifteen minutes until he got a 'yes', even if the person had told him to zip it.
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