Autobot Jazz Application
Jan. 13th, 2008 02:03 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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The large silvery robot tumbled through the black to land flat on his back in the park's entrance. He lay there for a moment, stunned, and then flipped to his feet and dropped into a defensive position, shield out and open and looking warily for the Decepticons he'd been fighting just seconds (minutes, hours, days?) before. He relaxed marginally when no enemy fire rained down upon him, straightening up enough to actually look around.
Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"
Jazz blinked at the giant cartoon-style mouse, glad the visor hid just how big his optics had gotten. "Ah, my designation is Jazz."
"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.
Jazz crossed his arms over his chest after subspacing the shield and letting his hand re-emerge from where his machine gun had been moments before. "We Autobots are on Earth to locate the Allspark before the Decepticons can, and destroy it if we need to. Which is why I need to get back to the fight." Somehow, a talking cat was easier to handle than a large mouse he vaguely recognized as an icon of American Entertainment.
"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"
"Wait, I think I recognize those quotes from a Monty Python movie..." The 'bot stared at the mouse in consternation. "What is this thing with the questions? You're horrible at interrogations. Wishes aren't real. But... if I could grant three, I suppose they'd be: Get Elita and Optimus back together. End the War with the Decepticons. And... restore Cybertron to the way it was before the war."
Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"
Revolution? What revolution. Jazz eyed his surroundings - they looked harmless enough, but as all Cybertronians knew, there was more to most situations than meets the eyes. "I have several skills, and I'm rather certain that you don't need to know them. Primus, I can only imagine how 'Hide would react to your pathetic attemps at interrogation."
The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"
Jazz looked at the cat. "I don't eat terran food."
"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"
"Well that's an easy one. Robots - though we prefer to be called mechs. And humans, because no other culture I've come across in all the human millenia that we've been traveling have I seen so much amazing diversity. Humans are so very amazing..."
"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"
Jazz shook his head slowly. "Nah. Bullets sure, and I guess some of my armor could be sharp, but I'm not the arsenal that Ironhide is."
Mickey coughs theatrically. "'What is your name?'"
Jazz blinked at the giant cartoon-style mouse, glad the visor hid just how big his optics had gotten. "Ah, my designation is Jazz."
"What is your quest?" asks the Cat. It's perched, suddenly, on the roof of one of the gate-stiles.
Jazz crossed his arms over his chest after subspacing the shield and letting his hand re-emerge from where his machine gun had been moments before. "We Autobots are on Earth to locate the Allspark before the Decepticons can, and destroy it if we need to. Which is why I need to get back to the fight." Somehow, a talking cat was easier to handle than a large mouse he vaguely recognized as an icon of American Entertainment.
"'What is the average w..?'" Mickey frowns down at the notebook. "You know, I don't really see why that's important." He flips a page. "'If you could be granted three wishes, what would they be?'"
"Wait, I think I recognize those quotes from a Monty Python movie..." The 'bot stared at the mouse in consternation. "What is this thing with the questions? You're horrible at interrogations. Wishes aren't real. But... if I could grant three, I suppose they'd be: Get Elita and Optimus back together. End the War with the Decepticons. And... restore Cybertron to the way it was before the war."
Mickey looks rather nonplused at the next, but reads, "'When the revolution comes, what skills will you be able to barter for food?'"
Revolution? What revolution. Jazz eyed his surroundings - they looked harmless enough, but as all Cybertronians knew, there was more to most situations than meets the eyes. "I have several skills, and I'm rather certain that you don't need to know them. Primus, I can only imagine how 'Hide would react to your pathetic attemps at interrogation."
The Cat rolls its eyes in a friendly (and rather disconcertingly out-of-sync) way, and asks, "Milk, dark, or white chocolate?"
Jazz looked at the cat. "I don't eat terran food."
"'Choose the two coolest: robots, pirates, fairies, bears, ninjas, monkeys, vampires, or humans,'" says Mickey, giggling a bit as he goes through the list. "'Explain.'"
"Well that's an easy one. Robots - though we prefer to be called mechs. And humans, because no other culture I've come across in all the human millenia that we've been traveling have I seen so much amazing diversity. Humans are so very amazing..."
"Great!" Mickey flips through the blank pages of the notebook at top, cartoon-y speed. "Well, I think that's just about it! Oh, and I'm supposed to ask, 'for your safety: are you carrying anything sharp?'"
Jazz shook his head slowly. "Nah. Bullets sure, and I guess some of my armor could be sharp, but I'm not the arsenal that Ironhide is."
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Date: 2008-01-14 12:41 am (UTC)"Oh man, so awesome! Hi, I'm Static!"
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Date: 2008-01-14 02:07 am (UTC)"Hiya Static, 's'up? Gotta tell me how you do that."
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Date: 2008-01-14 02:55 pm (UTC)She probably could have picked a better subject for her first shot at it, but you had to start somewhere. Naturally, she had to make an Entrance, and she did so: manifesting from a sweetly-scented cloud of rose petals.
"Hello there," she said, looking Jazz up and down with some perplexity.
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Date: 2008-01-14 08:19 pm (UTC)"Yo. What's with the uncloaking and chemical cloud? Tryin' to poison a mech?"
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Date: 2008-01-15 04:52 pm (UTC)He dropped back into his usual more laid-back stance, and put a hand on his hip joint. "Any other questions, Aphrodite?" I now understand the comment 'what crawled up her ass and died?'
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Date: 2008-01-22 03:47 am (UTC)((And if you'll put your contact info here (http://community.livejournal.com/dizzy_backstage/1307.html), you'll be all set to go in and play. :D))