[ Text // Video ] First Mission

[proveyourmetal]

>> [Text Message to the Network] <<

[First things First. Bumblebee sends out an urgent message, seeking out his allies. Please be all right...]

Autobots. Do you read? Bumblebee to Autobots.

What's the situation? Everyone make it out??   

[Unwilling to divulge further information on an unsecured line, the message ends there. Unfortunately, Bee won't be able to reply for another 20 minutes.]





>>[Video to the Network 20 minutes later] <<

[Scaring the marbles out of knucklehead teenagers is difficult enough when you're the size of a Golden Retriever, but Coronamon manages it just fine. And with flare!]

[He even records the image of those scuffed up teenagers as they make a hasty retreat, their digimon hot on their tail. It's one of the first images showing where it's happening: on a well traveled road near HospiTown.]

[Coronamon kicks at the dirt, sending a symbolic farewell in their wake.]

Yeah, that's right! Turn tail and run, ya good for nothin' lunkheads!

[The D-terminal swivels around, and Coronamon's head fills the entirety of the screen.] Kids, these days. More concerned with intimidatin'' Bits out of unsuspecting newbies than doing our duty. What this world comin to?

[The delinquents might have been able to intimidate a couple of Bits out of other newcomers (already had, most likely), but Coronamon's not the average digimon. Besides, there was no way Coronamon was going to let them ruin his day. He's finally found his partner: Bumblebee. The D-Terminal settles on the young man standing some ways away, clad in an orange and black suit bearing a peculiar red insignia cough Autobot brand.]

Smile for the cam!

[Coronamon toddles forward for a more dramatic shot, and after some prompting, Bee finally indulges his partner's cinematic venture with a celebratory gesture of his own. He raises a casual fist and pats his arm. That's the power of squishy human fists and fire wielding organic creatures, he supposes]

[Sorry, Terminal. Bee's not real talkative. Still, wordless as Bumblebee is, it's clear that something is wrong with him. He's in relatively good shape (aside from the fact that he may be favoring his left foot and he's sporting some smears of dirt across his face and suit. Both of those are his own fault anyway- this new body's a little awkward...). Yet the frown on his face as his hands come to rest over his stomach is perplexed, almost to the point of bewilderment]

H-hey. Whatsamatter? [Coronamon scrambles over, inspecting his partner until a familiar grumble meets his ears. Coronamon's shoulders sag in relief. The D-terminal shudders as he laughs.]

Way to scare a guy. That aint no injury, that's called an empty stomach!

You're hungry, ya goof.

[Hungry!? Bumblebee's stare remains fixed on Coronamon. He used to be a giant  robot. How's he supposed to handle this as a human? The feed finally cuts.]

Comments

[text]

[oneeyedterror]

Depends on what we're supposed to have made it out of, Bee.

[Of course this is sent after the video, because... Whirl is a lazy little shit (Best Autobot). That and kind of, huh at how Bumblebee looks as a human. Not going to get his hopes up here.]

[text]

[proveyourmetal]

[Bee's a little hesitant to get his hopes up too. He certainly can't mention the Omega Lock. Hmmm.]

'Nemesis' mean anything to you?

[text -> video]

[oneeyedterror]

[Squinting on his end, trying to recall if he's heard that name for anything at all in regards to a certain yellow Autobot and he is about to type a reply when...]

asjdskfjksd

[click, SUDDENLY video, a jostle of video which will show Bumblebee some important things. And no not the pig-tailed eyepatched girl that is Whirl, but that familiar red Autobrand on his denim over-alls and man it looks like this kid is on something windy.]

Slagging hell, Jetstream fly steady I'm talking to frikking Bumblebee here! Even if the little guy is saying some nonsense.

[Permatext from bee because LOL what is talking]

[proveyourmetal]

[In all the jostling, he sees it plain and clear: Autobot! Well, that opens up Bee a lot more. He types back hastily:]

You know me? Who is this?

[and perma-vid from this end too]

[oneeyedterror]

[Oh ok... He didn't say his name, and the thing is already on video so why go back to text, so Bee not know right away.

Nope, not hoping. And that is so a guy voice coming from a girl who can't be much older than Miko.]

Yeah, I know you. Name's Whirl.

[and perma-vid from this end too]

[proveyourmetal]

[A longer pause before his reply this time.]

Sorry - Can't say I've met anyone by that name before.

[oneeyedterror]

[... sigh.]

Let me guess, Wheeljack is a Wrecker?

[SO MUCH FOR MAYBE SOMEONE FROM HOME, oh well.]

[proveyourmetal]

[Another good sign- he knows the guy. But he's not sure how that's relevant in this particular instance. other universes wat]

Yeah, he's a Wrecker. Why?

[oneeyedterror]

[Another sigh, man this sucks. And Whirl is so used to not have a face that he's no good at hiding that slight disappointment showing.]

Means we're not from the same bunch of Autobots, little guy.

Oh well.

[proveyourmetal]

[Bee can read the expression on her face, and he is apologetic, even if he's not sure he gets the whole picture.]

Not from the same bunch?

[oneeyedterror]

Different universes or some slag like that.

[Meh, Whirl is sounding so blase and indifferent now.]

Like, frikking Wheeljack isn't a Wrecker where I'm from. And you, well the you I know. Last time I saw the little guy he was trying to fix up Cybertron after the war.

[proveyourmetal]

Different universes.

[All right. Bee's fairly acquainted with human language. But is this some kind of elusive metaphor or human expression the other's picked up? Because the alternative would be that he means it quite literally...]

You're serious.

[oneeyedterror]

Serious as frikking Optimus Prime.

[How's that for serious, Bee?]

... He's here too, your Prime that is.

[proveyourmetal]

[PRIMES NEVER PARTY. That's dead serious, Whirl.]

He is?

Optimus is here?

[He doesn't even know where to start. So many questions. Where, how is he, when did he get here, how long was he around for-]

[oneeyedterror]

Yep.

[A pause, enjoy the sound of the wind blowing past during that silence.]

Should be fine if he didn't get scrapped when the big city got wiped out.

[proveyourmetal]

[........... Wait what?]

[SPEED TYPE.] What's this about a big city, now? What happened?

[oneeyedterror]

The city that all of us have been staying in got scrapped. Nothing left.

[Best info giver, A+ Autobot.]

[proveyourmetal]

[Whirl! You should never give that kind of terrible news with that face. PRIMUS. Knee jerk reaction is to accuse the usual culprits:]

Decepticons?

[oneeyedterror]

There aren't any 'Cons here. Least not anymore.

[HE SOUNDS SO DISAPPOINTED BY THAT. He misses Misfire being here, sob sob.]

[proveyourmetal]

[Bee will take a con-free universe any day, and her tone puzzles him. Just for a second.]

Then how'd it get scrapped?

[oneeyedterror]

[A con-free world is a dull as hell world, which is bad for Whirl. He gets bored and then he starts shooting things.]

Some of the big digi-things thought it'd be fun to fight there.

[proveyourmetal]

[YOU SHOULD BE MORE CAREFUL ABOUT SHOOTING THINGS. WE'RE ALL FRAGILE SQUISHIES]

What's the name of the city?

[In case it's not clear, that is definitely Bee's next destination.]

If everyone was there when it happened...

[oneeyedterror]

[WELL GOOD THING THEY DON'T HAVE ANY GUNS FOR HUMANS HERE.]

Uh... Tokyo.

And every one is heading someplace else, little guy. So stay frikking put.

[proveyourmetal]

[This isn't the first time they'd all been separated. Bee would find them again, just like he did before.]

Everyone's scattered.

I can't just stay here. They could be damaged somewhere, or missing.

[oneeyedterror]

Or they're on a slagging train heading your way.

[It's because you're a tiny robot, even in Whirl's universe, that he is being stern as fuck]

So stay slagging put or I'll kick your aft like you're a Decepticon.