Log edited with Logedit 2.6.9pl on Tue Dec 9 13:22:07 EST 1997 ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Outside Memorial Spaceport(#175 RntN) Mischief sneaksneaksneaks in for no apparent reason. Mischief scoots out of your way like a pixie on fire, becoming just a small silver blurr. Mischief flits around Perceptor's head and shoulders patiently, waiting for him to either hold out his hands *and* close his optics or just hold out his hands. "Come on, Lassie, you can do it...." she chirps out cheerfully. Perceptor glances hesitatingly toward his hands. His fingers open and close several times, then remain open as he holds them out before Mischief. Mischief giggles, making a brief show of disappointment as he doesn't close his optics, then hovers over his hands for a moment. Mischief crouches down, begins to *szzztttt* We're sorry, but this transformation message is experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.* *sszzzzt* And then suddenly, there's a small tape there. Colorful Tape flops down into the outstretched hands and emits, "Now be careful... You have my life in your hands." Perceptor smiles at the small tape. He chuckles slightly and says, "At least your ...affinity... for holograms appears to have subsided into an alternative method of effectiveness." Perceptor holds the tape gently as he begins to make his way back toward Autobot Headquarters. Colorful Tape emits a sniff. "Holographic projection wasn't available as an option with the new models," she emits sadly. Colorful Tape sneaksneaksneaks in for no apparent reason. Perceptor chuckles again. "That's quite beneficial to my productivity, is it not?" he asks with a smile. You move north to the road to Autobot Headquarters... Road to Autobot Headquarters(#178 RntN) Colorful Tape is quiet for a moment, then starts shaking a bit as Mischief tries to giggle. Broken bits of laughter sounds make it out of her speakers until she finally figures it out and laughs. "Heheheheeee..... Butbut.... I can't surprise ya anymore!" Perceptor enunciates, "That's quite alright with me, I must say. That incident was one that placed a severe sttrain on my efficiency manifolds." Colorful Tape hrmpfs, remembering, then quiets again as she emits a small hum. "I do declare, I remember. You were madmadmadmadmad and became stove top stuffy." Perceptor's yellow optics flicker for a moment, but he makes no audible response in confirmation of Mischief's assertion. Autobot Headquarters (#4848 Oer) Central Courtyard and Landing Area(#320 RntN) Perceptor enters his access code at the entryway into the city and makes his way inside. One of the security guards steps forward and motions toward the color tape in the scientists hands. "What is that?" the guard inquires. Colorful Tape hmmmmms again, then finally heaves a mighty sigh... well, mighty for a tape anyway and she admits, "I'm sorry you were mad." She doesn't voice, though, the fact that he certainly looked surprised and that almost made it worth it until he started yelling. Lifting his hand to present the tape to the guard, Perceptor says, "This Junkion will be able to provide me with information recorded in Crystal City regarding the drones that we have since learned are Elita One and Red Alert. I approve of her entry into the city." Colorful Tape emits cheerfully, "And I second the motion!" The guard looks unamused, and blandly waves Perceptor and tape through. "Proceed," he blurts. Colorful Tape adds, "And I promise not to paint... well, much anyway." Perceptor nods his head and continues into the base. You slide down a narrow chute to... Tunnel-Central(#3649 RntN) Perceptor ducks down and slides to the tunnel level of the base. He makes his way through the corridors toward the laboratory, nodding and waving to familiar faces as he proceeds. You step through the steel door, and into AHQ. Briefing Room - AHQ(#781 RntN) You move north... AHQ Command Center(#766 RntN) You move west to the Central Hallway West... Central Hallway West(#750 RntN) You move north to the Laboratory... Laboratory(#776 RntN) Perceptor enters the laboratory carrying a small tape in his outstretched hand. He smiles politely toward the drone and says calmly, "Hello, Elita." The scientist then steps toward the computer console, holding out the small tape and inserting it into the playback device. Dropped. Colorful Tape would blink if she could, then promptly gets the giggles as the computer locks in on her and she sings, "The wheels on the tape go round and round... round and round.. round and round." Small Drone flashes it's lights as it spins around, "Greetings, Perceptor. What brings you down this way today?" Perceptor chuckles as he turns from the console. "The Junkion Mischief has brought to my attention the fact that she has some information of importance stored in her," he responds. "Being unaccustomed to her alternate mode, I offered to utilize our facilites here in Autobot Headquarters to retrieve the data from her." Small Drone shifts forward slightly, "A Junkion? I thought Blaster had finally decided to make a femme tape." The computer screen flashes for a moment, displaying the nice quirky feature of the Junkion faction symbol before the information on the junkion tape is actually decrypted. Various technical designs of the femme base, pieces of equipment, personnel designs, medical logs, etc, flash across quickly, almost as though they were accessed in a jumble. Colorful Tape giggles to herself, albeit silently since she's plugged into the computer and has a small tug of war with her host over a piece of information, just to see if she can. The screen flashes erradically again and finally a brief image of Optimus appears, along with some technical data on him. Perceptor shakes his head toward Elita. "No, this is one of Songbird's tape," he says. He stops talking and jerks his head toward the monitor screen to glimpse at the flashing display of images. Perceptor's optics flicker in apparent confusion as he watches the screen. "Mischief," he asks firmly, "How did you come to obtain this information you have recorded?" Small Drone moves forward curiously, "This is some of the information that my net accessed after regaining consciousness.." Colorful Tape's voice comes floating out of the computer speakers, "Hey, don't you guys clean up in here? I don't even want to know what I just stepped in.. oh.. heh... The camera's on. Ummmmmmmmmm..... I huffed and I puffed... ah.. no, that's not it. Oh! The lil drone dude was playing with the computer and then Backup told me I should record it, so I said 'Go-Go Gadget Tape' and did my thing. I'm not sure how, but here it is." Small Drone hmms, "She may have recorded the information left in the CCAB after it's computers were turned on." Perceptor nods his head as he continues to stare at the screen. "This was in the Crystal City base of the Femmes, you said?" Perceptor glances back toward Elita One, then to the screen. "I suposed this information provides more conclusive evidence to your identity, Elita. There are a few reports of individuals who doubt that you and Red Alert have been relocated." The picture of Optimus reappears briefly as Mischief struggles again with the computer, not realizing it's her job just to relay the information and not mess with it. Prime's antenna fade away and then the image disappears completely as some semblance of realization hits the little tape and she decides not all memories are good memories. A moment later, the screen blanks and a small 'flipflipflipflip' sound starts coming through the speakers, much like the sound you get when a tape breaks. Small Drone rumbles forward, "Something is going wrong, Perceptor." Perceptor reaches his right hand toward the keyboard console, flipping off the playback. He says calmly, "That is the end of the data stored within your databanks, Mischief." Perceptor makes a cursory check to make certain that the playback was recorded. "Most intriguing," he says as he ejects the tape from the computer. The small tape emits, "I may be small now, but I'm drinking milk. You'll see, someday I'll be big and strong!" She folds out into her robot mode, looking at herself and sounds a bit miffed, "But apparently not today." Mischief whews, landing lightly on the console. "Good thing I'm not clastra...cluster....uh... afraid of small places!" she announces, then grins. "How was that?" she asks, then acks as the drone rumbles forward. "Oh... hey, it's the lil drone dude!" Small Drone ponders for a moment, lights blinking on and off, "Greetings, Mischief." she emits, "I assume you retrieved this information from an underground base in Crystal City?" Mischief's optics widen a bit as she does finally register the drone's voice, Mischief's optics widen a bit as she does finally register the drone's voice, then drops on the floor, squinting at it. She walks around the drone in a little circle with a studious expression, then shrugs. "There's something awfully familiar about all this," she quotes. "Yes..yes, I did.... Right after Firestone ran away with you and your sculpture.. er... well, if that was you... ah.. who are you?" Small Drone says, "I am Elita One, Mischief." she states simply, swiveling around to follow the drone, "And yes, that was me in the main area of the base." Mischief cracks a wide silly grin as she stares at the drone. She speeds up, seeing if it'll still track her, then slows down, stopping finally and stepping forward to peer closely into it's visual receptors. "And now, for something completely different...." Small Drone tracks Mischief for a moment, then seems to emit a small chuckle. "Yes, I am sure that it probably is different." Mischief hrms, folding her arms and scratching her little helmet thoughtfully, then shoots a curious glance at Perceptor. Small Drone swivels around to Perceptor, "I read the report files from Security. Will travel to Earth be down for long?" Mischief jumps up, perching on a chair to look around. "Something up with the third rock? Bad guys getting you down?" Perceptor enunciates, "I have spoken with Omega Supreme, and we may be able to arrange a trip to Earth with his assistance." Small Drone bobs, "Understood. When do you expect a response?" Mischief's little face lights up at the mention of Omega and she recalls something. "Oh! Have you figured out how to shrink things ye--" she blurts out excitedly, then slaps both hands over her mouth to stiffle herself and tries to listen patiently. Mischief hrms, muttering to herself about Omega for some reason, then hops up and starts pacing thoughtfully. ---------------------LOG ENDS - STATISTICS----------------