[ 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

[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.

[proveyourmetal]

[TOTALLY NOT THAT TINY OK Well. The little tidbit about the train, and the possibility of the others coming to him is enough to settle Bee down.]

You said your name was Whirl, right?

[oneeyedterror]

[Whirl is close to Optimus' height as a bot, SO U SO TINY You better settle... actually no don't settle, Whirl wants to beat up someone.]

Yeah, Whirl. Autobot, Ex-Wrecker.

[Yeah... even though the Optimus here pretty much said "Yeah you're one of us and a Wrecker" to him before everything went to shit, but Whirl is still not actually going to call himself that.]

[proveyourmetal]

[THAT JUST MEANS YOU ARE UNNATURALLY GIGANTIC That's quite all right. He still remembers the aft-kicking remark. Bee can rumble with the best of them, but his body is woefully organic at the moment.]

Thanks for the rundown.

You win. I'll stay put.

[Though that bit with the 'Ex-wrecker' ... makes him curious.]

[oneeyedterror]

[Dammit. He's itching for something to hit, Bumblebee, how disappoint.]

... Alright, that will at least make your buddies happy.

[If Bee wants to ask about it he better do it soon.]

[proveyourmetal]

[Save your tiny, tiny little girl fists some pain.]

[He still can't wrap his mind around this... different universe thing.]

You used to be with the Wreckers?

[oneeyedterror]

Got kicked out, yeah.

[Bored bored voice, as if discussing something like. Like getting a new paint job.]

[proveyourmetal]

You must've done a number to make that happen...

The Wreckers I know can get pretty rowdy sometimes.

[Some in fighting (which has vastly improved, admittedly), explosions everywhere, fist fights, large metal objects being flung...]

[oneeyedterror]

Well...

They had to call in Ultra Magnus.

[That's all he has to say about that, good sir.]

[proveyourmetal]

Ouch.

The big guns, huh?

[You're only making Bee more curious, man.]