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Nostalgia; Open Thread
Topic Started: 29 Jul 2016, 07:00 AM (26 Views)
Outburst
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Do you ever get that sudden urge to rampage your way into an attic, or to whatever place where you've been storing your old possessions throughout the years? From being a fragile four limb crawling organic youngling to barely walking old person because your joints are beyond saving? Whatever your age is, you do often physically return back to your memories - going through boxes of hoarded material that haven't seen light in unknown amount of years, collecting dust, fading in color; reminiscenes of one's childhood, forgotten memories, events connected with a certain object...

This urge can be powerful, enough powerful to prevent you from continuing your business you had prepared for the day, only to run to your storage to satisfy the immense need.

The fun thing, is that it could affect mechanic beings as well.

This day was quite eventful for few seconds to anyone who had ended up being gently shoved away to clear a path for Outburst, who had paused in the middle of his scientific research. Why? Why was he softly rampaging through those several busy corridors, elbowing everyone out of his way, followed by an exact number of 59 'excuse me'? One was certain - the force was dragging him into the Shuttle Bay, and he had no intentions to fight back.

Light on his feet, it took him few minutes to reach the desired destination, him cheerfully waltzing in the Bay with several ships parked - some of them were privately owned, some not. Falling in the 'Privately Owned' category was Outburst's personal ship, which he had used to locate the Lost Light. All he had to do was to find it - he was not really up to ask the crew that worked in Shuttle Bay where his ship might have been - he wanted to avoid questionable looks thrown at him, silently judging the ex-Decepticon, as if trying to uncover some hidden lies.

Letting a silent huff out of his vents, he strolled down the Bay, searching for his ship named 'Relation'. Although, during his little search, many distractions slowed down his progress, like that ship type which was infamously known for its durability or that one, with its notorious speed, or, or...

"Dear Primus, what the hell is that abomination..." He had to stop, hands on his hips, face scrunched in repulsion and disbelief - was that overgrown orb really standing in front of him? It was so painful to watch it, yet he couldn't snap his head off that thing and carry on. The Orb, or better known as Rodpod, was a literal physical portrayal of Rodimus' inifinite ego. It looked like just like his face, like his goddamn face!
"I do not understand you are not embarassed to fly with it, let alone have someone design it for you, Rodimus." Whether the Captain was directly standing behind the ex-Decepticon's back or not, Outburst mainly said it to release his mind off the hideous orb. Shaking his head, he grumbled something incoherent, and moved on to find his ship. At least THIS managed to divert his attention from it.

Finally, he found his ship, and he nearly slammed his entire body against it to hug it out from his energetic excitement. Wasting no time, he opened the doors, hopped in there, and in just few seconds, metal crates and boxes were sent flying out from it. Whoever was passing by had to duck and dodge to avoid any serious head trauma from the flying inanimate square attackers. Actually, it was surprising none of them had opened yet due to the impact with the ground. Hopefully, the box rain soon ceased to exist.

"I FOUND IT. THE BOOMBOX." Not controlling the strenght of his voice, it must have echoed at least four times throughout the Bay, Outburst pirouetted out of his ship right in the middle of the box swarm, holding a very tiny object, which now had the entire Outburst's attention. The Boombox, the object that he had once found (stolen) back when he roamed the Earth... Ah, those were the good old days. And he wanted to remember them.
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Blaster had been making his way back to his hab at the end of his shift- had being the key word- because apparently an over excited jet decided to bustle past him in a hurry. Now, usually, the music mech wouldn't mind the behavior; lots of mecha run around the ship, much to the local enforcers horror, but this was Outbrust.

The radio host didn't know Outbrust personally, but, he's heard the horror stories from Percy about the mech in question and his addiction to things that go Boom. And, seeing as the scientist (if you could even call him that) wasn't being followed by anyone to supervise him, this could only lead to trouble. Well, Blaster thought to himself, someone is gonna have to watch him. He sighed and began following the sounds of upset mecha that were pushed by an overly energetic seeker. If there was anyone that could either pull the seeker from a fire or restrain him from blowing the ship out of orbit, it was going to be an ex-Wrecker.

And that's how Blaster ended up following the bomb expert all the way down to the shuttle bay of all places. His sensitive audials picking up the sound of items being carelessly thrown about more than halfway across the bay. Great. Just peachy. Now some poor mecha's personal belongings were being rooted through. Another sigh was pulled from Blaster's vocalizer as he made his way across the bay towards the sound of the disturbance.

"Wha in Primus' name are ya-" Blaster was cut short as he was hit in the face with a... what was that? A human made primitive holo projector? Did he seriously just get hit in the face by a TV? Blaster gave the offending piece of machinery a look before stepping out of the line of fire. The host swiped a red servo over his visor, checking to make sure it was still crack free.

Whatever the scientist was looking for, he must've found it cause one moment Blaster was going to reprimand Outburst for making a mess in the shuttle bad and in the next Blaster's sensitive audials were screaming notifications at his HUD at the sheer volume of Outburst's outburst... Haha.

Ah guess all flyers got one helluva set o' pipes on 'em, the radio host thought to himself as he gently rubbed his still buzzing audial horn. He was going to have to reset his systems after that one. Frame, especially audial sensitivity, weaknesses was only one of the many problems his builders didn't think of when he was constructed.

"Wha're ya yellin' bout," Blaster asked, just a tab bit too loud as his audials were still ringing.

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Outburst
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The Lost Light recognized Outburst as a rather easily-distracted jet, who was capable of switching topics almost ten times in a span of few minutes, and still be able to return to the first one and continue it. Albeit, some of them were perhaps familiar with his lesser known type of attention span which was how invested he could become with one activity. Sometimes had had been working days non-stop, without proper recharge or refueling - all of his personal needs sacrified for science.

In particular, the world around him had been completely ignored with him fully concentrated at rampaging through his own ship, tossing the containment boxes out, tripping over them, and going through his collection reminding him of the time on Earth. With an impressively great care that was nearly shocking to see from someone as reckless as him, he picked up the miniature boombox between his index finger and thumb, rotating the object of interest. It looked just like the day he had found it - no scratches, no dents - perfect condition.

Oh man - as much as he wished to dig through his stuff, a voice made him jump; he turned on his heel to see what unfortunate soul had been a victim of the box rain. He dropped his boombox, but swiftly caught it (we need a slow-mo camera here to capture that moment!), his wings dropping down just a little bit. He did not recall anyone following him nor being at the same place as him, although, it hurt him. What did hurt him specifically? The mistrust. Yes, yes - he had to admit some of the experiments brought him bombastic results, heh bombastic, but he only did it in the name of science. Those which happened unintentionally simply happened - he considered it as a part of experimentations, part of discovering new things, trial and error... Really, he could not understand why him and his science were so frowned upon - okay, they were a bit overboard, little dangerous, and often practised everywhere but the controlled enviroment. Hell, only Brainstorm seemed to understand his situation.

Upsetting. That was the word! It really made him upset when others tried to prevent him from doing what he was best at. Was it because he used to be a Decepticon? Was it because of how many mechs lived on this ship? Was it Perceptor making safety precautions that involved keeping an eye on sprinting Outburst 'cuz that only meant he was up to something sinister? That didn't make a nice image of himself at all.

"Going through my stuff and why are we yelling at each other?!" He raised his voice too, not hiding the fact he was displeased with the other's presence; he was also unaware the other mech had sensitive audials - how was he supposted to know? He had never seen him nor talked to him, and he could only vaguely guess who that mght be. In the meantime, he made feeble attempts to make the place look a little less messier by pushing the crates behind himself with his heel struts... Yeah. You definitely did not notice that Minecraft hill growing behind his back.
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