Log Title: Cold Diplomacy
Characters: Delusion, Gnashteeth, Hacksaw Location: Simfur Date: March 21, 2020 TP: ?
Summary: Delusion visits Simfur to promote good relations and learn more about their culture.
As logged by Delusion
Log session starting at 20:53:26 on Saturday, 21 March 2020.
Simfur
Delusion visits the South Pole fairly regularly, these days. For one, the dire wraith did threaten to return. Every time there's no sign of a giant evil portal full of life-draining monsters is one more cycle without that particular worry hanging over the Dominicons.
And then, there's Simfur. Delusion rather likes the beast-shaped transformers here. Survivors, all of them. She can relate. She greets the guards on foot, letting them walk her through the gates and respecting their procedures as she enters the city.
Gnashteeth sits on a tiny throne in a round room large for him but somewhat cramped for his bulk visitor. When his mechs bring Delusion in, he gestures them away with his cyber-morphic predator hand and gives Delusion a toothy grin. "You may genuflect, yesss," he offers the visiting Dominicon. "What brings you to my kingdom, yess?" he asks with an ingratiating hiss. He leans forward slightly on his throne, gazing up at the larger femme.
Delusion bows, a graceful, sweeping motion, then straightens again. "A visit to keep good relations," she says plainly. "I brought gifts, and wish to stay and chat a while. There's no harm in staying on good terms with one's neighbors."
"Gifts?" Gnashteeth asks, sounding interested bordering on excited. "What have you brought? I'm certainly always interested in being a good neighbor, yess?" Perhaps interestingly, Gnashteeth doesn't seem to have an accent - or, more specifically, seems to be using a Valvoluxian accent, at least while addressing Delusion. Delusion may feel like she's being watched as Gnashteeth's predator hand stares at her as well.
Delusion produces a couple of energon cubes from subspace. "Yes. Not much, considering I'm not a hauler, but at least a token of goodwill." She notes the accent but does not comment. "I know the people here are hardy and self-sufficient, and your people guard their city well. Has anything even troubled your domain recently?"
Gnashteeth hisses in response to the question. "Just those wraiths you were kind enough to assist us with repelling, yess? We don't get a lot of traffic down here - at least, not since I took over," he chuckles. "You can put those over there," he gestures with his predator hand. "And now, we have something for you." He gestures again, and several beast-former Mini-Cons bring Delusion a patchwork cloak made from the hides of several local cyberfauna. It's a little short, but it's the thought that counts, right?
Delusion sets down the cubes and then accepts the cloak. "Oh, well done." She strokes it, feeling the texture of the hides. "Petrorabbits, a bit of Krystar iron-bear, and a turbofox tail? Good hunting here, indeed. The turbofoxes are deceptively fast. Did you catch them yourself?"
Gnashteeth smirks, an ugly expression on his silver snaggle-toothed face. "Not me. I have people for that nowadays, yess?" he chuckles. "They're all caught by my people, though. We can make things here in Simfur as well," he says, a little defensively.
Delusion nods. "Being as isolated as you are, I have no doubt your people have learned to make exquisitely adapted tools for this environment. I would love to see such expertise in action."
"Yes?" Gnashteeth asks. "Yess!" he agrees, optics widening in excitement at his own ideas. "Perhaps a hunt! We can show you our prowess in stalking prey - maybe show you a thing or two about moving through the wilderness. I know of Valvolux's technical wonders. Perhaps we might work out something you might need in trade." Gnashteeth stands, although it doesn't make him appreciably taller.
Delusion smirks. "A hunt is a fine idea," she agrees. "I hope my fragile flying form does not hamper your warriors as I observe."
"Just don't spook the prey, yess?" Gnashteeth requests. "Some of them scatter when they detect a predator overhead." Gnashteeth starts making his way past Delusion on the way to the door, barking orders at his mechs to form a hunting party immediately. He then stops and looks up at the Dominicon. "Have you an experience in wilderness tracking? Not a lot of cyberfauna left around Valvolux, I recall."
Delusion shrugs. "I have practice stalking prey, but mostly through cities. I imagine that's rather different from real wilderness like you hunt." She waits to fall in with the hunting party, audials sharp to see if the warriors talk among themselves.
Gnashteeth puffingly leads them out of his massive (to him) tent and into Simfur, which is an odd mix of the primitive and the technological. There are even a few citizens who seem to be armored organics rather than beast-former Cybertronians. While Gnashteeth goes on about his hunting prowess, his team, out of audioshot of Gnashteeth but not Delusion, mutter about this big-talking newcomer without the experience to back it up.
Delusion arches an optic ridge at the organics (a rare sight, indeed, on Cybertron!) and follows the party without giving away that she can hear the muttering just yet. The picture being painted is all too familiar. Still, a hunt! A bit of a chase will reveal just how much the grumbling is warranted.
Gnashteeth leads the group out of Simfur and into the cold wilderness that surrounds the city, cut back to keep anything approaching the polity to have any cover. Gnashteeth strides across the icy tundra to the edge of the cyberforest and then transforms, into a purple cybermorphic predator. In this mode, he sniffs the air before turning back to look at the others.
"A pneuma-lion, yess! So seldom to travel this far south alone. Well, it shouldn't be hunting in my woods. Now the mighty hunter will be the prey," Gnashteeth hisses tritely. "Find it! Stalk it! We'll bring it down, together!" he roars. His followers transform into beast modes and disappear into the forest. Gnashteeth looks back at Delusion and leers toothfully. "Follow, if you're able." With that, he plunges into the forest after them.
Delusion smirks and darts into the air, not bothering to transform. A jet would get caught in the branches of the forest. A femme, though, can slip through them. She takes time between trees to shape a second Delusion to follow after Gnashteeth while she cloaks herself in leaves and mist and moves closer to watch the vanguard. Snooping by hologram.
GAME: Gnashteeth PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.
It doesn't take long before Gnashteeth's team has found the pneuma-lion and encircled it, cutting off its escape. The lion had taken down a full-sized machadron on its down, and as the beast wails from a precision bite to its neck, the pneuma-lion turns from it and assesses its situation. Hunted, surrounded, the lion seems to sense its precarious position but turns to fight for its life, nonetheless.
Delusion watches the hunt, the poetry of cornering a prey, but she's also here on business, and that business is getting to know the beastformers of Simfur. Watching the power dynamics between them and their apparently new chief, she assesses weaknesses.
With its back to the downed machadron, the lion raises its haunches... and then Gnashteeth explodes from the forest into the small clearing. Within astroseconds he's on the pneuma-lion, tearing into it with his ferocious maw. The lion fights back mightily but tires quickly, still not fully recovered from the machadron hunt. Gnashteeth shows no mercy, tearing into the beast, showing it and all who the real apex predator is in this part of the world.
Delusion approves of the kill, can see why that kind of viciousness could garner someone leadership. But she listens to see if any of the warriors resent being cut out of the finish. Fake Delusion catches up to real Delusion over the crowd, merging the two back together seamlessly as she hangs slightly back the way a sheltered city-femme would.
Even Gnashteeth's mechs seem to appreciate the ferocity with which their boss moves in for the kill. What Gnashteeth lacks in true leadership he more than makes up for in pure, unadulterated savagery. Gnashteeth rips apart the pneuma-lion, doing far more damage than necessary, and leaves the carcass as a warning to others. With a nod of his oversized head, he signals his team to swarm the machadron, granting them the right to scavenge the lion's prey.
Delusion applauds politely and nods to Gnashteeth in recognition of his prowess, then watches the scavenging with professional optics. She was once a scavenger, herself, and is not against learning new ways to strip a corpse.
Gnashteeth looks up sharply at the applause, almost as if he forgot in the heat of the hunt that Delusion was there. He transforms back into purple Mini-Con mode, looking up at Delusion with an energon-streaked face. Behind him, his team first drains every cyberliter of energon from the the machadron and then rapidly strips it for parts.
Gnashteeth grins in victory. "Like what you see, yess?" he asks, expecting only one answer.
Gnashteeth's toothy grin broadens. He looks at the others. "I like this one, yess?" He looks back up at Delusion. "I'll give you a present, as a reminder of our first hunt together." He moves back to the lion, forcing open its jaws. Ruthlessly, he rips out several of its teeth, and strings them from a wire ripped from the cat's guts. "Here," he says, offering up the gory necklace. "For you, yess?" he grins.
Delusion descends daintily to the ground and accepts it, tying it in place around her neck. "I think it suits me," she tells him. "Thank you." She looks out at the busy hunters stripping out parts for a moment, then returns her gaze to Gnashteeth. "You said before that it's been quiet since you became leader here. Was there trouble before then?"
"Oh, you know. The occasional interlopers. Those trying to move in on Simfur's territory, yess?" Gnashteeth explains. Unseen to him, his team rolls their collective optics, one muttering, "Look who's talking."
Delusion nods. "There are plenty of those fleeing the war, looking for a place where their reputation can't chase them. I'm sure they think here is so remote, no one will ever know if they try to take advantage." She pauses. "But at least there's a strong city full of stalwart fighters to keep them at bay." She arches an optic ridge and gestures at the grumbling hunters.
Gnashteeth's optic ridge narrows in suspicion. "Yess..." he allows. He looks over his mechs. "Every mech, femme, and protoform in Simfur knows how to hunt and kill to feed and defend the city. We'll not be taken lightly by anyone," he says measuredly.
Delusion nods. "Such a force, united together, can be immensely powerful," she agrees. "It's always wonderful to see a leader that appreciates what they have."
Gnashteeth glances behind him at his followers and nods slowly. "Appreciate them, yess," he replies carefully. "Simfur is strongest when we all hunt together. We are united, unlike many cities on Cybertron," he insists.
Delusion nods. "You are fortunate, indeed. And them. Warriors who aren't given their due often falter in the face of pressure. But if their worth is acknowledged properly by a worthy leader, what they can accomplish is truly amazing. I'm sure you must be diligent in cultivating talent, to have so many so eager to work with you."
Gnashteeth glances behind him again. "Eager, yess," he hazards thoughtfully. As soon as he turns away, his team snickers behind his back. "I definitely... cultivate..." he suggests. "Talent," he finishes, languishing a bit. In the face of vicious pneuma-lions, fearless. Against Delusion's strange compliments, he struggles.
Delusion is going to either shame Gnashteeth into being a respectable leader who pays attention to his own men, or shame them into getting together to throw the interloper out. She's curious which will come first. But in the meantime, diplomacy. She rubs her arms slightly. "I have enjoyed this outing, but I am not quite accustomed to the cold. Perhaps we could return with our trophies? What do your people make from them?"
Gnashteeth nods, his own systems seeming to slow the longer he stands in the cold. "Good. Let us return," he says, checking on his mechs. "As for what we make, uh... all kinds of things..."
One of Gnashteeth's followers, a fellow cybermorphic predator, chimes in to save him. "We make weapons and armor - even the basis of our structures - as well as art to decorate or trade," the predator reports, transforming into a small robot mode.
Gnashteeth nods. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Well, clearly. He strides off, leading the small group back towards his village.
Delusion nods to the other predator. "I know many artisans in Valvolux who would be interested in your techniques." Whether she's actually addressing him or Gnashteeth is not quite clear. "I am a carver of metals and painter, myself, as well as a guardian of the city. I would appreciate being able to bring some of your knowledge back with me to share with those I protect."
GAME: Gnashteeth PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Average difficulty.
"Yeah, um..." Gnashteeth struggles.
"Hacksaw, sir," the predator replies.
"Hacksaw, yesss. Of course. Um, show Delusion our artists' quarters. I'm sure she'll have a lot to learn." Did Delusion ever actually give her name? Well, either way, Gnashteeth seems to know her name, even if he doesn't know the names of his own followers.
Delusion nods to Gnashtooth, "I appreciate your indulgence." She turns and offers an arm to Hacksaw. "I place myself in your care."
Hacksaw reaches up and takes Delusion's arm, and happily leads her back to the city to show off its artistic wares.
Log session ending at 00:16:07 on Sunday, 22 March 2020.