[ 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]

Ouch.

The big guns, huh?

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

[oneeyedterror]

Sure, we can go with that.

[He makes a popping sound with his mouth.]

Almost got kicked out of the Autobots for it too.

[proveyourmetal]

[!!!]

All right. Now I have to ask.

What did you do?

[oneeyedterror]

Why should I tell you?

[Leaning back, hey it looks like he's on something feathery and black, now.]

All I know is that you're some different Bumblebee from the one I know of, dunno if you're trustworthy.

[That and this is an unsecure communications line. He ain't tell anyone that story unless it's face to face, and really he's just told Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus (when Magnus was in this place that is).]

[proveyourmetal]

[If they need a secure line, Coronamon's going to have to help him with that. Be's all new to this D-Terminal tech.]

You'd want to know too, if you were in my treads.

But you don't need to talk on my account.

[oneeyedterror]

[Actually it's more Whirl is used to everyone knowing why he got kicked out.]

Not really, new spreads pretty fast back home. Everyone already knows.

[proveyourmetal]

[After a moment- Coronamon and Bee having a small exchange on the other side.]

Everyone from your home may know, but we're in a different place now.

I'm not a Wrecker so this isn't any of my business. You're still an Autobot and that's all in the past. I shouldn't have asked.

[oneeyedterror]

Oh I know. And more than just the Wreckers knew.

[Like almost every Autobot... or at least his therapist. But whatever.]

And you asked, not like I have to answer, kid.

[proveyourmetal]

Sorry about that.

You tend to ask a lot more questions of people you meet when you're surrounded by Cons day in and day out.

[Smokescreen had gotten the suspicious treatment too when they'd first met.]

[It still seems like it's important to know, especially if whatever he had done was drastic enough to nearly get kicked out for it. But he'll take a chance and let it slide this time. Hopefully he doesn't regret it.]

[oneeyedterror]

I guess?

Never actually had to go through something like that.

[Because while the war Whirl lived through was fucked up, the Autobots were never totally frikking out-numbered.]

[Bumblebee, you'll only regret it once Whirl starts telling stories. Or gets the younger 'bot drunk. Or both.]

oops. Didn't press Post. pfff

[proveyourmetal]

Really? But you were a Wrecker. You must've been surrounded by Cons all the time.

[oneeyedterror]

Well yeah, but it's not like we were unable to get in contact with High Command.

[Private // Text]

[proveyourmetal]

[A minute passes before the text comes in. Looks like Bee's finally enlisted his digimon's help with the D-terminal. It's private. Not sure how much of an encryption it is, but it's better than nothing.]

Count yourself lucky. Wasn't much of a High Command where we came from. All we had was Optimus.

[Though in Bee's opinion, Optimus was the best he could've asked for anyway.]

[video//not private]

[oneeyedterror]

[Now it's Whirl's turn to take a moment to respond, because he's not sure if he sure try to set his response as private or not.

Eh, he's not feeling like being all cloak and dagger today.]

Judging by how your Prime is? Surprised you lot didn't get slagged.

[video//not private]

[proveyourmetal]

[Bee's anger flares up for the first time. He doesn't even notice Coronamon staring at him as he hastily types back a reply.]

Hey! If it weren't for Optimus, we would be slagged.

He did more for us than any High Command could.

[oneeyedterror]

[Nice... Even if it's text Bee has given Whirl a button to push, something to do when bored.]

Could have fooled me with everything I've seen him do here.

[Maybe, maybe just still a bit bitter at a talk he had with Optimus last month.

Yeah, bitter.]

[proveyourmetal]

Well you weren't LOOKING hard enough.

[oneeyedterror]

No, actually I looked hard enough.

Especially when he pretty much outright accused the Prime I know of doing something slagging horrific.

[proveyourmetal]

[So there is something behind his resentment. Time to get some intel.]

Accused him of what?

[oneeyedterror]

You ever seen a bot without a normal face or claws instead of hands, kid?

[That's not an answer, Whirl.]

[proveyourmetal]

[Also what Bee's thinking. But he'll play along, miffed as he is.]

Few times. Why?

[Shockwave. Magnus (though that was more due to a lack of parts). Soundwave. Though this may not be exactly what Whirl means.]

[oneeyedterror]

Do you know why they're like that?

[Oh Whirl has already told the Optimus here about Empurata, but he's feeling like being an asshole today.]

Or at least why they'd be like that back on my Cybertron.

[proveyourmetal]

No idea.

[oneeyedterror]

Empurata, kid.

[A pause, because he's not even going to wait for Bee to ask him what that even means.]

Or to put it simply, before the war? Criminals, and sometimes people who made the wrong kind of people angry, had their head and hands removed.

[proveyourmetal]

That's [He's taken aback. Give him a moment to look for the right word. Cruel. Awful. Distasteful. Creepy.] barbaric.