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TwinningDeep in the bowels of the Transformer base was a small, bare room with two bunks, one overhead light, no windows, and a barred, locking door. The room was used as a holding cell for troublemakers to the faction and today held its usual occupants, a set of twins. Rather than using the flat bunks, each twin settled himself on the floor with his back against it, rehearsing their well-used complaints.
"I tell ya," said the red twin to his brother, "I wish they'd shut up about it! We're nothing like them!"
"Yeah!" replied the other twin, his glowing optics scanning for a possible escape route. "Just because they have a set of twins, who also enjoy playing pranks, they think we're all alike!" He jumped to his feet, lunging at the barred door. "Let us out!" When no answer was forthcoming, he sulked back to his side of the tiny cell and sank down onto the bunk.
The red twin eyed his brother. "It gets so boring here…at least we try to liven things up! After all, we only hacked i
TF - Best Laid Plans"Best Laid Plans"
Red Alert wrung his hands in concern, watching as a troop of Autobot warriors vanished down the road from the Ark, a dust cloud kicking up their wake and the Aerialbots flying off overhead. Normally, such a small rescue team wouldn't be of concern to the Security Director...except that they were the fourth one to leave in the last three days.
A few days prior, a call for help from Cybertron's Autobot femme resistance force regarding some troublesome activity from Shockwave and his drone army reached the Ark, causing Ironhide, Mirage, Smokescreen and Powerglide to climb aboard Omega Supreme for a flight home to kick a little aft. Then, late last night, word reached the Autobots from Kuwait that the country's oil fields were under heavy assault from not only the Insecticons, but the Constucticons as led by Megatron, as well. Optimus Prime gathered a force consisting of Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, Warpath, Gea
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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