Alternate mode: Ferrari 599, painted smoke gray
Primary Function: Advance scout
Motto: Leave me be, or be left in pieces
Ranged weapon: Auto loading energy crossbow.
melee weapon: Bearded axe
Special Abilities: Low fuel consumption
CHA : 3
Rank : 5
Height: 26 feet/7.92meter
Grim, dour, patient, sarcastic, twistedly humorous, spiritual, as well as very self-reliant, to the point of stubbornness, which has gotten him into some trouble with high command on occasion. These are just the better qualities he has shown in the short time he has been known . Originally deployed to Europe, he scanned the fastest car he could see, and went about finding a suitable place to call home. So for fun he decided to roll onto an outbound Ferrari car carrier, just to see where the cosmos intended for him to go. That place wound up being the private collection of a Russian commodities trader, living in Chicago.
When he knows that he can move without notice he spends his time practicing what forms he can remember from his time at a Circuit-Su training camp, and some of the more basic forms of Metallikato. While not that good at either, he knows he can hit a target the size of a spark chamber from a good distance. He would much rather spend his time in quiet meditation while cruising the plains or lake shore, at nearly 200mph(320Km/h).
His favorite topic of meditation is the very nature of the spark, and to a greater extent the Allspark. He has spent countless meta-cycles contemplating the reason for the war. At one point he even considered organizing a protest to it. But for some reason, despite the ultimate result, all the polls he bothered doing, or reading hinted that the citizens favored the war. If anything this self-proclaimed hermit wants true, and utter peace. But if that means the death of a few, he can appreciate the sacrifice.
If you could get Lore-lock to focus on something other than the philosophy of the Spark long enough to get him engaged in conversation you would learn why he has his name. From the best way to field strip an energon rifle, to some of the stranger habits of creatures, he can go at length and in great detail about anything.
Aside from his wealth of semi-useful knowledge, Lore-lock is a fairly capable fighter. While he prefers to shoot his opponent from as safe a distance possible, to reduce the chance of getting damaged; he can hold his own in hand to hand combat. After arriving on Earth he had Ratchet tweak his power system to maximize his efficiency, and reduce his fuel consumption to the lowest function level. He even went so far as to have the lamps in his car form replaced for lower powered ones. His crossbow has a dial, that enables him to adjust the power from non-lethal(for a fleshy creature) to fairly painful to another bot.
When he must grab his axe he knows well how to use all 15 feet of it's length. His optics almost always take on a focused haze as he activates his axe
energon flows, and the blade glows. Then the dance begins haft, blade and butt finding their marks on the target. With a touch of luck he can remove the arm of any unlucky decpticon, or at least put a good gash in one of Devastator's legs.
The biggest weakness Lore-lock has is his armor. It never did get upgraded after the war started. It might be able to stop a simple blade. On the rare occasion where his crossbow goes off into his foot is not a good thing, every time a trip to the repair bay. His attitude is another major problem, primarily due to the war itself. He is simply tired of it. The war has made him bitter, and hungry for an resolution to be found.
It's early morning and Lore-Lock was grouchily on his way to inventory a storage locker. I just gave Prowl the manifest for this locker but 6 cycles ago. How frequently does that locker need be checked.
Just when he gets to the locker door his comm chirps.
>> Lore-lock, This is Ratchet
, I need you to run into town and get some things for me. Wheeljack
cleaned out my spare parts collection, again...<<
Lore-lock's optics glow with a hint of rebellious glee. >>ok, Ratchet
I'll get down there as soon as i finish inventory on this locker. Prowl
Said he needs it before I can do anything else.<<
He then quickly re-counts the whole locker, mostly from his memory banks, entering the figures into a fresh data pad. That done he quickly makes his way back to the ranking 'bot, and then down to get Ratchet's
Later, but not by much:
Contentedly cruising around the lake, on route to the auto dump Ratchet
said he could find the needed parts. The clouds above a blur, much like the high grass in the countless fields he has passed. His mind more focused on where he came from than where he's going. If the All-Spark came first, who or what made...
His thoughts interrupted as he engages his stopping mechanism , blue-black smoke thick in the air as he slides to a dead stop only inches from the back-end of a slow moving cargo truck. With a quick check for other spark signatures, he revvs up his engine and lets the car horn blast. By Unicron, what is this fool doing just sitting in the road? Not even at an idle waiting for some cattle to cross the road.
Just as he was getting ready to pass the hulking rig a pair of jets flew over. Much lower than even the locals would. Moreover he notices that they aren't the typical craft that he usually sees. A bad taste begins to coat his tongue.
<Foolish Decpticreeps, Aren't you in the wrong neighborhood? Or have you been looking for me? >
With screeching tires, he sets up a quick smoke screen more for the "protection" of the natives than anything and transforms. The jets did indeed hear him and they circle back, replying
<Why, yes we were looking for a pathetic autocrock. We haven't gotten to play with any of our favorite toys>
They don't even bother waiting to see if he hears them before they let loose a barrage of rockets into the freight truck. Seeing the flash from their rockets is all the target Lore-lock needed, and he trained his crossbow on the wingtip of the leading jet. After a beat he loosed another shot at the nose of the trailing 'Con, and readied his axe for some con smashing.