Carbombya
The tank squadron fired their main cannons at the mechs headed for them, and the tank shells tore through their machines' torsos. However, more took their place, and some managed to stomp on the tanks underfoot while others destroyed them with energy blasts. The Carbombyan armored regiment fought to the last man, and the last remaining tank even managed to blow away the face of one of the primitive mechs before perishing. However, vanquishing the tank squadron isn't the last thing they would do. Seeing a nearby military base, they decided to storm it, undoubtedly invigorated by their recent victory.
This distraction is working wonderfully. However, Rastun doesn't have forever, he needs to meet up with Brainwave while the Carbombyan military is engaged on multiple fronts. Hopefully his "reinforcements" last long enough to at least keep any annoyances off his back.
Laughing Matter Member
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Carbombya
Rastun, with his new help, arrive at the now wartorn nation. He thought one of them would question how he could open a space bridge when he's supposedly low on power, but none of them spoke up. Which is good, since a Carmbombyan tank squadron is heading right for them, and they wouldn't give them time for questions.
"Gentlemen, I believe this is your chance to prove yourselves. Attack!"
And so they did, charging with guns blazing at the group of armory. Undoubtedly, they would suffer casualties even against such meager resistance, but they would at least fill the role of distraction nicely.
Rastun, with his new help, arrive at the now wartorn nation. He thought one of them would question how he could open a space bridge when he's supposedly low on power, but none of them spoke up. Which is good, since a Carmbombyan tank squadron is heading right for them, and they wouldn't give them time for questions.
"Gentlemen, I believe this is your chance to prove yourselves. Attack!"
And so they did, charging with guns blazing at the group of armory. Undoubtedly, they would suffer casualties even against such meager resistance, but they would at least fill the role of distraction nicely.
A warrior's memory
Inside an elaborate throne room, a mechanical grey Cybertronian-sized humanoid kneels before his master with his head bent down. No, not just master, but creator. The one who breathed life into his body and gave it its very Spark. Unlike most Cybertronians, he and eleven others of his kind never received an alternate mode even long after their creation. They have spent several years without another form to shift into, and were relegated to their indistinct, Protoform-like bodies. Each of them endured tests under their creator, forging them to be capable servants. When the tests were over and they achieved the desired results, their creator gave them a reward and marked a new point in their lives. In this time, the kneeling mechanoid is about to receive his gift.
"Raise your head, my loyal servant, so you may see your reward," the creator said. The grey machine did so, and saw a golden metal goat materialize out of thin air. It appeared to be a Cybertronian in its alt mode, but seemed to be somewhat anachronistic in its design, similar to a few members of The Thirteen. However, it neither moved nor spoke and it merely hovered in the air. The still kneeling mechanoid admired its beauty, but wonders what kind of reward he received.
"Now rise," his creator then said. He did as he was told and suddenly, the golden goat broke into pieces, fragments of it flying towards the grey robot. Before he even had time to be puzzled, the goat's pieces grafted themselves onto him. Its horned head became his helm. Its front legs became his pauldrons, gauntlets, and armguards. Its rear legs became his greaves and thigh-armor. Its torso became his breastplate. Now clad in gold, he felt unimaginable strength flowing through him, stunned that he'd be given such a gift.
"My Lord, I vow to prove myself worthy of this honor," he responded.
"You will have your chance to do so, in time..."
Post-Slam, flying through the void of space
The golden clad warrior follows the aura trail left behind by one who has similar power to his own. It grows fainter with each moment, but not so much that he couldn't keep tracking it down. This being, whatever it is, is not one of his kind. Any unknown individual with abilities similar to his brethren would have to be found and, if necessary, terminated. He was still distant from his goal, but he would never stop until he's face to face with this person.
Inside an elaborate throne room, a mechanical grey Cybertronian-sized humanoid kneels before his master with his head bent down. No, not just master, but creator. The one who breathed life into his body and gave it its very Spark. Unlike most Cybertronians, he and eleven others of his kind never received an alternate mode even long after their creation. They have spent several years without another form to shift into, and were relegated to their indistinct, Protoform-like bodies. Each of them endured tests under their creator, forging them to be capable servants. When the tests were over and they achieved the desired results, their creator gave them a reward and marked a new point in their lives. In this time, the kneeling mechanoid is about to receive his gift.
"Raise your head, my loyal servant, so you may see your reward," the creator said. The grey machine did so, and saw a golden metal goat materialize out of thin air. It appeared to be a Cybertronian in its alt mode, but seemed to be somewhat anachronistic in its design, similar to a few members of The Thirteen. However, it neither moved nor spoke and it merely hovered in the air. The still kneeling mechanoid admired its beauty, but wonders what kind of reward he received.
"Now rise," his creator then said. He did as he was told and suddenly, the golden goat broke into pieces, fragments of it flying towards the grey robot. Before he even had time to be puzzled, the goat's pieces grafted themselves onto him. Its horned head became his helm. Its front legs became his pauldrons, gauntlets, and armguards. Its rear legs became his greaves and thigh-armor. Its torso became his breastplate. Now clad in gold, he felt unimaginable strength flowing through him, stunned that he'd be given such a gift.
"My Lord, I vow to prove myself worthy of this honor," he responded.
"You will have your chance to do so, in time..."
Post-Slam, flying through the void of space
The golden clad warrior follows the aura trail left behind by one who has similar power to his own. It grows fainter with each moment, but not so much that he couldn't keep tracking it down. This being, whatever it is, is not one of his kind. Any unknown individual with abilities similar to his brethren would have to be found and, if necessary, terminated. He was still distant from his goal, but he would never stop until he's face to face with this person.
PRIDE OF DESTRUCTA
welcome to the fold
welcome to the fold
I may or may not use this
I'll do mech stats and shit some other time
Pilot
Name: Slade Wilson
Gender: Male
Age: 41
Height: 6'1
Weight: 210 lbs
Rank/Title: Former ASIS operative, now a mercenary called Deathstroke
Special: Enhanced human with greatly boosted physical stats due to a serum he was injected with.
Bio:
As a member of an elite ASIS (Australian Secret Intelligence Service) unit, Slade undertook several classified missions all over the globe and established a reputation among his peers as an extraordinary soldier, even by their standards. However, even the best of soldiers suffer unfortunate injuries. During combat, he and his squad were blindsided by insurgents, one of them managing a lucky hit on Slade from the splash damage of his RPG. The shrapnel took out his right eye and after the battle, the remaining survivors of his squad took him to the medics. Unbeknownst to them, however, they were about to use Slade as an opportunity to test out their newly made super soldier serum. Taking him to an undisclosed location, they injected him with the serum, and Slade experienced dramatic increases in all of his physical attributes, including his healing factor. Unfortunately, his right eye never grew back. With his new powers, Slade became legendary in the ASIS as he executed all of his missions flawlessly.
A few years later, Slade left the ASIS. There were some among them who hesitated to let him go, but they thought forcing someone of his abilities and reputation to stay would be unwise. Slade found work as a mercenary, and he discovered it to be far more profitable than the ASIS ever was. He eventually took the name Deathstroke for himself, and became an internationally feared merc. Sometime later, he gained a mark on his forehead, then kept getting images of a place in Japan and visions of a giant humanoid robot. These visions eventually led him to travel to the land of the rising sun and there, he discovered he's the Seventh Head of the Orochi, a malevolent god. Unknown to everyone, however, Slade was never meant to be the Seventh Head but the Unicron Singularity has a habit of changing plans. He eventually gained possession of the Take no Yamikazuchi, the giant robot in his visions, and also found six other Orochi disciples. Naturally, he offered them a place by his side and when they refused to work for him, he forced them into service. Slade taught the Orochi basic military combat routines and forged them into a fighting force. He learned of the existence of the Solar and Lunar priestesses, and the Ame no Murakumo, all of which posing a threat to him and his group. He tracked down the incarnations of the Solar and Lunar priestesses, Himeko Kurusugawa and Chikane Himemiya, respectively. Slade had Himeko killed and when Chikane learned of the act, she flew into a rage and vowed revenge for the death of her beloved. Chikane is later revealed to be the Eighth Head, though she lacked the mark of other Orochi members, and attempts to subvert Slade's machine for her own use. However, his will, formidable enough to keep even the Orochi itself at bay, proved far too strong for her and the Take no Yamikazuchi stayed with its master. Slade kills Chikane as well, and takes her Yokusemi no Mizuchi, the mech meant for the Eighth Head.
The Orochi then became the foundation for Slade's new mercenary force and they developed a fearsome reputation across the world. After the events of the Slam, parts of his world became merged with another Earth's, his own already subtly twisted by the Unicron Singularity, resulting in Slade's mercenary army being thrust into an entirely new battle...
Mech
Ignore the poor NTR'd bastard and lesbo in the bottom image
Name: Take no Yamikazuchi
Type: Super
Dimensions: 35 meters in height
Weight: 3000 tons
Stats
Strength:
Armor:
Firepower:
Performance:
Mobility:
Energy Output:
Sensors:
Description:
I'll do mech stats and shit some other time
Pilot
Name: Slade Wilson
Gender: Male
Age: 41
Height: 6'1
Weight: 210 lbs
Rank/Title: Former ASIS operative, now a mercenary called Deathstroke
Special: Enhanced human with greatly boosted physical stats due to a serum he was injected with.
Bio:
As a member of an elite ASIS (Australian Secret Intelligence Service) unit, Slade undertook several classified missions all over the globe and established a reputation among his peers as an extraordinary soldier, even by their standards. However, even the best of soldiers suffer unfortunate injuries. During combat, he and his squad were blindsided by insurgents, one of them managing a lucky hit on Slade from the splash damage of his RPG. The shrapnel took out his right eye and after the battle, the remaining survivors of his squad took him to the medics. Unbeknownst to them, however, they were about to use Slade as an opportunity to test out their newly made super soldier serum. Taking him to an undisclosed location, they injected him with the serum, and Slade experienced dramatic increases in all of his physical attributes, including his healing factor. Unfortunately, his right eye never grew back. With his new powers, Slade became legendary in the ASIS as he executed all of his missions flawlessly.
A few years later, Slade left the ASIS. There were some among them who hesitated to let him go, but they thought forcing someone of his abilities and reputation to stay would be unwise. Slade found work as a mercenary, and he discovered it to be far more profitable than the ASIS ever was. He eventually took the name Deathstroke for himself, and became an internationally feared merc. Sometime later, he gained a mark on his forehead, then kept getting images of a place in Japan and visions of a giant humanoid robot. These visions eventually led him to travel to the land of the rising sun and there, he discovered he's the Seventh Head of the Orochi, a malevolent god. Unknown to everyone, however, Slade was never meant to be the Seventh Head but the Unicron Singularity has a habit of changing plans. He eventually gained possession of the Take no Yamikazuchi, the giant robot in his visions, and also found six other Orochi disciples. Naturally, he offered them a place by his side and when they refused to work for him, he forced them into service. Slade taught the Orochi basic military combat routines and forged them into a fighting force. He learned of the existence of the Solar and Lunar priestesses, and the Ame no Murakumo, all of which posing a threat to him and his group. He tracked down the incarnations of the Solar and Lunar priestesses, Himeko Kurusugawa and Chikane Himemiya, respectively. Slade had Himeko killed and when Chikane learned of the act, she flew into a rage and vowed revenge for the death of her beloved. Chikane is later revealed to be the Eighth Head, though she lacked the mark of other Orochi members, and attempts to subvert Slade's machine for her own use. However, his will, formidable enough to keep even the Orochi itself at bay, proved far too strong for her and the Take no Yamikazuchi stayed with its master. Slade kills Chikane as well, and takes her Yokusemi no Mizuchi, the mech meant for the Eighth Head.
The Orochi then became the foundation for Slade's new mercenary force and they developed a fearsome reputation across the world. After the events of the Slam, parts of his world became merged with another Earth's, his own already subtly twisted by the Unicron Singularity, resulting in Slade's mercenary army being thrust into an entirely new battle...
Mech
Ignore the poor NTR'd bastard and lesbo in the bottom image
Name: Take no Yamikazuchi
Type: Super
Dimensions: 35 meters in height
Weight: 3000 tons
Stats
Strength:
Armor:
Firepower:
Performance:
Mobility:
Energy Output:
Sensors:
Description:
The Valley: Recruitment
Rastun's sensor sweep does its work and finds energy signatures just out of Autobot City's borders. They seem to be in a hurry to leave the place, but they're not so fast that Rastun wouldn't be able to catch up. The Astafanel speeds towards the group of primitive mechs, and stops in front of them, still at a fair distance away relative to their position. Judging from their numbers, they would suffice as a distraction to cover himself and his not-quite-trustworthy allies. After a few moments, the group stopped in their tracks when they see the white machine in front of them. They readied themselves into attack positions, but made no other moves. Rastun chuckles, then opens up a comm channel to them.
"Please don't do anything foolish, I'm not here to fight. If I were, a huge chunk of your machines would be scrap by now. Your sensor readings would likely indicate I have similar technology to the Cybertronians that attacked Autobot City, which doesn't speak well of your chances against me.
"So drop the bravado and listen to what I have to say."
The mechs lowered and deactivated their weapons, their pilots likely grudgingly agreeing with Rastun's words. One of them replied, "What exactly do you want from us?"
"Am I right in assuming you're the leader of your band?"
"Yes, I speak for them."
"Good." Rastun then appeals to their pride and says, "All of you have been disgraced and thrashed around, if the wreckage I saw in Autobot city is any indication. Humiliated and tossed aside."
"What's your point?!" the leader blurted out of frustration.
"If you let me finish, I'll get to it. Now, with all of that said, how would you people like to prove yourselves as able fighters? I have a battle of my own, but I can't win it alone. If you and your men help me, your group would be known as heroes in the war-torn nation I am currently fighting in."
The leader of the band mulls this over, but still has reservations. "If we're so primitive compared to you, why come to us in the first place?"
"I may have an advanced mech in comparison to most, but even it doesn't have unlimited power reserves. The intensive fighting has caused my machine to run low on ammo and fuel, so any assistance at all would be graciously appreciated." Rastun is, as they say, bullshitting. Hopefully they're not smart enough to see through it.
After moments of deliberation, their leader finally replies back and says, "Alright, we'll agree to this. Just show the way."
Rastun then proceeds to open the space bridge and leads the crew towards their new battlefield.
Rastun's sensor sweep does its work and finds energy signatures just out of Autobot City's borders. They seem to be in a hurry to leave the place, but they're not so fast that Rastun wouldn't be able to catch up. The Astafanel speeds towards the group of primitive mechs, and stops in front of them, still at a fair distance away relative to their position. Judging from their numbers, they would suffice as a distraction to cover himself and his not-quite-trustworthy allies. After a few moments, the group stopped in their tracks when they see the white machine in front of them. They readied themselves into attack positions, but made no other moves. Rastun chuckles, then opens up a comm channel to them.
"Please don't do anything foolish, I'm not here to fight. If I were, a huge chunk of your machines would be scrap by now. Your sensor readings would likely indicate I have similar technology to the Cybertronians that attacked Autobot City, which doesn't speak well of your chances against me.
"So drop the bravado and listen to what I have to say."
The mechs lowered and deactivated their weapons, their pilots likely grudgingly agreeing with Rastun's words. One of them replied, "What exactly do you want from us?"
"Am I right in assuming you're the leader of your band?"
"Yes, I speak for them."
"Good." Rastun then appeals to their pride and says, "All of you have been disgraced and thrashed around, if the wreckage I saw in Autobot city is any indication. Humiliated and tossed aside."
"What's your point?!" the leader blurted out of frustration.
"If you let me finish, I'll get to it. Now, with all of that said, how would you people like to prove yourselves as able fighters? I have a battle of my own, but I can't win it alone. If you and your men help me, your group would be known as heroes in the war-torn nation I am currently fighting in."
The leader of the band mulls this over, but still has reservations. "If we're so primitive compared to you, why come to us in the first place?"
"I may have an advanced mech in comparison to most, but even it doesn't have unlimited power reserves. The intensive fighting has caused my machine to run low on ammo and fuel, so any assistance at all would be graciously appreciated." Rastun is, as they say, bullshitting. Hopefully they're not smart enough to see through it.
After moments of deliberation, their leader finally replies back and says, "Alright, we'll agree to this. Just show the way."
Rastun then proceeds to open the space bridge and leads the crew towards their new battlefield.
As am I
I just haven't found a reason to post yet
I just haven't found a reason to post yet
Who would possibly agree to attack Carbombya? He doesn't think the Titans would be willing to do so, especially not after that debacle in Autobot City. But the ones who owned those odd doll mechs on the other hand, they could be a possibility. Rastun sets the coordinates for the valley and activates his space bridge generator.
"I think I know the right people for the job," he said, then leaves. When he arrives at the valley, Rastun does a sensor sweep in the hopes of finding what he's looking for. He'd have never thought such ridiculous machines would be essential to a mission, which is yet another proof of how unusual this mission has been so far. It will probably get even more strange from here, he thinks.
"I think I know the right people for the job," he said, then leaves. When he arrives at the valley, Rastun does a sensor sweep in the hopes of finding what he's looking for. He'd have never thought such ridiculous machines would be essential to a mission, which is yet another proof of how unusual this mission has been so far. It will probably get even more strange from here, he thinks.
Rastun hates to admit it, but they're right. Irked as he is by this recently revealed secret, he can't afford to have this group argue amongst themselves while the enemy laughs, as it's doing right now. Rastun prides himself on his professionalism and his ability to put the mission before his personal feelings. This assignment is not quite the usual kind for him, but he can't lose his composure, especially with the stakes they're dealing with. He can talk about the Megatron situation later but for now, this mess has to be sorted out first.
"Alright, we can discuss Megatron later. Can you trace this cult leader's transmission in the meantime?"
He has a feeling it won't actually work, but Rastun at least needs to show he'll be focused on the task at hand.
"Alright, we can discuss Megatron later. Can you trace this cult leader's transmission in the meantime?"
He has a feeling it won't actually work, but Rastun at least needs to show he'll be focused on the task at hand.
Carbombya: An Untimely Revelation
Inside his Chronoframe, Rastun jolts back in shock. The so-called Joe Convoy is actually Megatron?! Or at least a Megatron. That name is often synonymous with warmongering and carnage, striking terror into most anyone who opposed him. His Decepticons warred with the Autobots for millions of years, making the human factions of Earth look peaceful and subdued in comparison. In short, Megatron is not a figure to be taken lightly, and anyone with that name should be kept on a very tight leash. Which begs the question of what precautions Brainwave has taken.
"Brainwave, explain. Now. Why did you bring along a Megatron and what kind of measures have you taken to keep him in line? I realize we're in desperate times, but having a Megatron, with the same kind of technology you have, as an assistant is asking for disaster.
"And if there's anything else you're hiding from me, now would be the time to tell."
Inside his Chronoframe, Rastun jolts back in shock. The so-called Joe Convoy is actually Megatron?! Or at least a Megatron. That name is often synonymous with warmongering and carnage, striking terror into most anyone who opposed him. His Decepticons warred with the Autobots for millions of years, making the human factions of Earth look peaceful and subdued in comparison. In short, Megatron is not a figure to be taken lightly, and anyone with that name should be kept on a very tight leash. Which begs the question of what precautions Brainwave has taken.
"Brainwave, explain. Now. Why did you bring along a Megatron and what kind of measures have you taken to keep him in line? I realize we're in desperate times, but having a Megatron, with the same kind of technology you have, as an assistant is asking for disaster.
"And if there's anything else you're hiding from me, now would be the time to tell."
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