[ 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

[robotfightclub]

[Well when you're sick, wasting time just isn't an option. Arcee's earlier days were filled with confusion and, well, anger thanks to her being the only Cybertronian way back when. Since then she vowed she'd never let her teammates to go through what she did. She wanted to BE there for them. Not being able to hurts, the only thing she can do is go everything pronto.]

Last thing, huh? It's been awhile...

[She rubs her neck as she thinks it over.]

I think we were just getting back to base. Optimus had the Star Saber.

[proveyourmetal]

[Hmm. Bee's turn to contemplate. He couldn't remember actually handing the Star Saber to Optimus. Maybe... it happened after he went unconscious? Or was there something faulty in his memory banks? Was anything erased in the transition to organic?]

I remember the Star Saber...

Do you remember trying to rescue Ratchet? And fighting near the Omega Lock?

[robotfightclub]

[Excuse Arcee as she stares at the text oddly. She even flips the Terminal over as if expecting some sort of secret message to appear. When that doesn't work, she figures something must be up. Cue eyebrow raising.]

Can't say that I do... Saving Ratchet from what, exactly?

[Miko? Was it Miko?]

[proveyourmetal]

[Uh oh...]

Soundwave nabbed him. We had to track down the Nemesis.

None of this rings a bell?

[robotfightclub]

[Oh, it rings a bell all right. This sounds similar to the stuff Smokescreen told her during his short time here. Which means...]


Scrap.

[Give her a moment, she's still not used to this timeline nonsense.]

Bee, I don't know how to say this, so here it goes.

You're from the fragging future.

[proveyourmetal]

[There is quite the long pause.]


Arcee what

[robotfightclub]

[She goes to answer but finds that she has to stop, coughing instead. Sorry, Bee, still sick. When she returns after that little fit, she doesn't look very amused.]

Just...trust me on this. I mean, look at you. You're human. Is it any harder to believe you could possibly be from the future?

[Cough.]

[proveyourmetal]

When you put it like that... I guess it's only a little more ridiculous.

Should you be up and about? Ratch would throw a fit if he were here.

[robotfightclub]

[A hand rubs over her face.]

Ratchet isn't h--

[No, she stops. Someone's too tired to argue that.]

If I don't keep moving, I'm never gonna get to HospiTown. No offense, but I'm not a fan of sleeping outside.

...By the way, it's called sleeping now.

[proveyourmetal]

HospiTown's not going anywhere, Arcee.

Besides. Your digimon are pretty worried about you.

[Bee's worried too, but that goes without saying.]