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darksabrz wrote:Scourge

Allegiance: Decepticon
Function: Sweep Leader
Alt. mode: Sweepcraft (Cybertronian hovercraft)
Weapons: Heat Laser, Various Fusion and Incendiary Explosive Devices, Disintegrator Cannons
Special Abilities: Capable of escape velocity; FTL-capable
Height: 33ft / 10.07m

Quote: "Desolation follows in my trail."

Strength: 08
Intelligence: 09
Dexterity: 09
Speed: 09
Endurance: 08
Courage: 09
Firepower: 08
Accuracy: 08
Melee: 09
Tech Skill: 08
Charisma: 07
Rank: 07

Profile: Imagine a being with no capacity for remorse, warmth, or even compassion - a being for which friendship and basic camaraderie were totally alien concept that suggested only weakness and folly. Such a being would be more monster than mechanoid, which is an accurate description of Scourge. He is a singularly merciless and unstoppable hunter and killer. Scourge's fearsome disposition and physical powers make him a virtual demigod among the Transformers, which should be enough to frighten anyone. But perhaps the most terrifying thing about him is that he represents only the smallest fraction of the strength and evil of the Decepticon Empire.

Scourge is the first of a new breed of Decepticon envisioned by Megatron: a prototype tracker/terminator meant to work alongside the Seekers as the main offensive weapon of the Decepticons, both complementing each other rather than replacing. Unlike the Seekers whom share their loyalties between Megatron, Starscream and number of other high profile Decepticons, the Sweeps were designed to be utterly loyal (some might say fanatical) in preserving Megatron and, by extension, the Decepticon Empire. Some projections indicate that the potential of "The Sweeps" is sufficient to make the Seeker design obsolete for other operations than high speed hit and run attacks, especially if Scourge's vision to make his Sweeps a pack of tracker/terminators under his own command becomes a reality. Only time will tell, but Scourge intends on testing those projections to their utmost and see the results for himself. Needless to say, this intention makes the Seekers very nervous.

Abilities: Scourge is highly intelligent. His physical strength and endurance are far greater than most of Transformers. His scanning equipment is powerful enough to trace someone or something from one end of the galaxy to the other based on the smallest traces. In sweep-craft mode, he is armed with disintegrator cannons that break down the molecular bonds of targets, dissipating them. In robot mode, he is armed with a heat laser that can turn most armor into slag, as well as a variety of fusion and incendiary explosive devices.

Weaknesses: Scourge exhibits no physical weaknesses. His only failing point is his arrogance.

Sample Pose

Sigma Draconis VII

The 'mech ran for dear life, doing everything possible to avoid the being chasing him. No, not chasing -- hunting. The 'mech was prey, and the agitated paranoia he exhibited as he shifted between robot and altmode in his ongoing efforts to evade the hunter was proof of just how frightened he was. An hour, a day, a week -- time seemed meaningless. Only survival and evasion were important.

It had been bad enough when the Decepticon invasion force swept through. Then that terminator showed up, hunting down the stragglers and survivors that hadn’t been butchered. Bargaining wouldn't work -- a couple of stragglers had learned that to their sorrow early on. Reasoning was out of the question -- another survivor had begged for mercy, only to find a slow, painful death instead. Just one look at the hunter was all the 'mech would ever need to convince himself that it was pitiless, remorseless, fearless. And it would be implacable; it would never stop -- ever -- until he was dead.

An energy blast rang out from above and behind, and the 'mech narrowly dodged out of the way in time. As it was, the energy was enough to melt a rather sizeable hole through the ruined alley wall. He glanced back over his shoulder to see if the hunter had been the one to take the shot, but he saw nothing: only darkness.

He kept running, ducking through alleyways and avoiding the main thoroughfares of the ruined Autobot outpost. He was the last remaining survivor, and had managed to avoid most of the Decepticon invasion force that had come through. But this terminator, this hunter -- he was unlike anything the 'mech had ever experienced before. He hadn't had a recharge in the week since the invasion; there had been no time, and to try and stop for any attempt at rest meant death. He was tired on so many levels -- physically, mentally, spiritually.

Suddenly, as the 'mech rounded another corner, he stopped short. Dead end. No doors, nothing to hide behind--

The faint whine of repulsors and the crunch of two feet hitting the ground behind him might as well have been a death knell to his audial receptors. He could see the silhouette of graceful, curvilinear wings extending and flexing with a prehensile quality. Slowly he turned to face the hunter, suddenly weary of it all, and called him by name.

"Scourge."

The Sweep leader emerged from the shadows, his imposing royal blue and light blue body coming into view. The malevolent glow of his crimson optics were enough for the 'mech to palpably feel the evil staring down at him. "I had wondered which would break first," he observed quietly, his gravelly voice showing little emotion. "Your body or your spirit. The answer is clear."

The 'mech's optics dimmed slightly, then brightened once more. "Do your worst," he replied, his words carrying a bravado that he didn't feel.

Scourge gazed imperiously at the 'mech, and his lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. "You have been amusing, prey. You've led me on quite the chase, but you know the truth: I could have terminated you at any point and time these past two mega-cycles. I wanted to see just how far you would push yourself before you gave up, whether it be from exhaustion or a lack of will to continue any longer."

Suddenly, the Sweep leader launched forward, clawed fingertips and arm plunging into the 'mech's chest cavity before ripping out his prey’s fuel pump. He watched the shocked and amazed look the 'mech gave him as he gurgled, then fell back as Scourge's hand pulled back out, fuel pump in hand. Liquid energon dripped from his clawed hand as he stepped back, the disintegrator cannon atop his head beginning to glow before unleashing an energy blast that obliterated the 'mech.

Looking down, Scourge examined the fuel pump for a few seconds, then slowly squeezed it in his hand, crushing it before dropping it in the dead end. Then he launched upwards on repulsors, transforming into his ovoid sweepcraft form and taking to the skies, leaving Sigma Draconis VII behind. It was time to return to Lord Megatron, and see the progress on the additional construction of more Sweeps.

Hunting alone was pleasurable. Hunting as park of a pack, that he could lead as the alpha -- that would be far better still.

Trickster wrote:Name: Bludgeon
Allegiance: Decepticon
Function: Electric Warrior
Alt. mode: Cybertronian Tank
Weapons: Energo-Sword, Shield, Electric Cannon, Electric Fireballs
Height: 30 ft / 9.14 m
Quote: “To know your own limits, you must first know your foe's limits.”


Strength: 6
Intelligence: 8
Dexterity: 9
Speed: 2
Endurance: 9
Courage: 9
Firepower: 7
Accuracy: 9
Melee: 10
Tech Skill: 7
Charisma: 7
Rank: 6

Profile: Bludgeon is calmed and prepared, always giving the disconcerting impression that he knows something no one else does. He frightens other Decepticons with his emotionless demeanour during combat. One of few Decepticons who could be described as honourable, the aloof Bludgeon adheres to an archaic code which only he understands. He feels that each worthy opponent he conquers adds to his own abilities, bringing him closer to his ideal of the “ultimate warrior.” His superstitious ways and eerie religious practices disturb many Decepticons, but none can deny his effectiveness in combat. Nor would they try, lest he turn his seemingly supernatural abilities against them.

Abilities: Bludgeon is one of the most skilled hand-to-hand combatants from Cybertron and is a master of the forgotten art of Metallikato. He has generators in his legs that produce disorienting clouds of black smoke. In robot mode, Bludgeon is armed with a high-powered energo-sword and accompanying shield, as well as an electric cannon (also the main weapon in tank mode). He possesses the ability to internally create electric fireballs that can be directed through his body with a range of over 400 yards.

Weaknesses: Bludgeon has no known physical weaknesses, but adherence to his superstitious beliefs and code of honour can hamper his battlefield effectiveness.

Sample Post:

Seated on the floor with his legs crossed and actuators resting on his knee joints, Bludgeon was motionless, as inanimate as the few items of furniture occupying his cell. Grey steel greeted him from every angle. Against his dreary surroundings, even his dark aqua colour scheme appeared as though in defiance of the mass of tedious grey enveloping him. In a strange way, Bludgeon looked out of place, inconsistent with the interior.

His optics were devoid of vitality, hollow orbs featuring only darkness. Having completed his daily training session under the careful supervision of the guards, they had escorted him back to his cell where he would pass the remaining cycles in the orn in silence, entertained only by meditation and the drills he performed to maintain his lethality in combat.

Tomorrow would eventually come around, and Bludgeon would repeat his routine all over again. This routine applied to the next orn, as well. And the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that.

Colour flooded back into his optics, two pools of blood red filling to capacity. Meditation concluded, Bludgeon lowered his cranial unit. He brought an actuator to his face-plate and examined it, gaze latching on to it.

They would have never been aware of Bludgeon's unique yet potent ability had he not guaranteed his ignorant opponent, a powerful individual whose belligerence equalled his impressive strength with ease, that he could defeat the challenger without the aid of physical force. Chainfist, well known to the guards and inmates alike for constantly broadcasting his obsession to beat Bludgeon to scrap, scoffed at the master of Metallikato, saying that madness had finally seized his mind.

The fight began when Chainfist launched a quick right hook at him. It ended three astroseconds later, courtesy of two electric fireballs discharged at point-blank range.

Or so the tale went, as far as the two guards who were present during the encounter claimed what their optics had witnessed. It had happened so fast—perhaps too fast for the pair of guards to register and comprehend in its entirety. But they saw Chainfist fall, a broken body, off-lined as a result of the damage inflicted upon him, crashing to the floor as gravity went about its business. He neither uttered a single word nor twitched to confirm his survival.

While Chainfist's continued functioning seemed dubious Bludgeon had not killed him. Logic frowned at that very action. Logic, prior to the confrontation, had informed him of the consequences involved in the poor fool's termination. Logic persuaded Bludgeon to deviate from his original plan and prevent himself from making an error.

To have killed Chainfist, Bludgeon would have been immediately shown his new home: The Rig. Most likely as a permanent resident, too. Given how deadly the electric warrior was, owing to the legendary reputation he had garnered before being incarcerated and the amount of wannabes he had bested in this facility thus far, no argument no matter how well supported with facts and statistics would have saved him from The Rig. Bludgeon knew Maximus had reached his limits with him and had cast his optic on the martial artist, scrutinising every movement he was now making.

It was as much for the inmates' protection as it was for Bludgeon's. He considered it ironic, almost laughable when Maximus told him that, but chose not to express his opinion to the warden. The line was so fine between solitary confinement and The Rig, even a regular cell and The Rig, that Bludgeon could barely identify it. That, and Maximus wasn't particularly fond of violence and those who had the potential to excel at it.

Rising from the floor, Bludgeon composed himself, his stoic visage gazing straight ahead. He was wary of the penalties bound to his actions, should he find himself being challenged once more by another inmate. One more punch, one more kick—even in self-defence which was often the case—and it would be all over. Maximus had made that very clear; he'd dedicate a great deal of effort to personally ensure Bludgeon's spark was extracted, that he lived out the remainder of his sentence in The Rig.

While he understood those penalties and accepted them, his concerns did not lay with them. Not at this moment. All likely trouble-makers, all those idiots who continued to believe they could defeat Bludgeon despite the atrocious head-to-head between the electric warrior and his competitors, would be relocated to different blocks upon his return to general population.

If they gave him the green light to return. Not a certainty. And even though those inmates suspected of looking for a fight would be residing in different blocks far from Bludgeon, the possibility of conflict was still not completely eliminated. For all he knew, some moron, deemed harmless, might pluck up the courage, seek him out, and take a swing.

Then it would be a one-way trip to The Rig. Not quite the adventure Bludgeon was after.

If he was ever released from solitary confinement. That was his concern. Truth be told, this place, this isolation—it wasn't as horrible as some of the other inmates having experienced it described it to be.

Solitary confinement offered Bludgeon generous servings of peace and quiet, two valuable qualities he appreciated when lost in meditation or heavily engaged in training. Neither of these qualities were obtainable in general population. Not in abundance, anyway.

The again, it would be interesting to see if anything had changed out there during his absence. The sudden emergence of his curiosity surprised him somewhat, expecting it to be lured to more important matters. Of course, Bludgeon had been locked away in solitary confinement for a while. A long while. Perhaps too long.

Whatever the case, Maximus—or one of his little yes-mechs—would apprise Bludgeon of his situation soon enough.

Grimboots wrote:Name: Cliffjumper
Allegiance: Autobot
Function: Warrior
Alternate Mode: Pontiac G8
Weapons: Ion gun, grenades, Glass gas gun
Special Ability:
Height: 18 ft. 5.59 m
Quote: "Strike first, strike fast, strike hard."

Strength: 4
Intelligence: 4
Dexterity: 6
Speed: 7
Endurance: 4
Courage: 10
Firepower: 7
Melee: 5
Tech Skill: 5
Charisma: 5

Holomatter Avatar: A young, bruised up man. He is sporting sunglasses.

Profile: Cliffjumper never was one to be called patient. Courageous and eager for action, Cliffjumper always wants to be the first on the battle field. The day Megatron and the Decepticon threat became known, many Autobots were fearful and worried. Not Cliffjumper. He was ready to put those vile bots back in there place if they crossed him. This isn't to say that Cliffjumper wants the war to continue. Like his fellow Autobots, he wants nothing more than for it to cease. But, while it's still raging, giving the Decepticon's a beating is Cliffjumper's favorite pastime.

Abilities: While in his vehicle, mode Cliffjumper is a speedy, bright red, Pontiac G8. His colors often are able to draw fire from the other Autobots, towards him. This in unison with his speed makes him a valuable asset to the Autobot cause. In robot mode, he is able to fire a projectile that releases Glass Gas. This can temporarily weaken the Decepticon's metal structures, weakening them,and allowing the Autobots to get some shots in.

Weaknesses: Cliffjumper's recklessness could be the death of him. Though a loyal soldier, Cliffjumper's actions could end up in him and his fellow Autobots getting hurt. There's also the chance of the wind blowing his Glass Gas towards, him or an ally, weakening them instead of the Decepticons.

Sample Post:

"Roger that, Prime. I'm on my way!", "Cliffjumper responded to the radio signal that a patrol unit had spotted some suspicious activity down town. While the suspicious activity could have been anything, Cliffjumper had a gut feeling that it was a Decepticon scouting party that was getting too close to pinning down the location of some of his Autobot comrades. While it was more common for the Decepticons to take to the skies, he knew they had operatives on the ground.

The bright red Pontiac G8 was parked on the side of the road, his Holoavatar sitting in the driver seat with his sunglasses on remaining almost a little too still for normal humans, but most just ignored him. The holoavatar then glanced into his rear view mirror, then adjusted the side mirrors - an act of normalcy before pulling out into traffic.

Cliff' knew Decepticons had a knack for disappearing rapidly if they had been spotted so he knew he had to get across down fast. Rapidly routing the quickest path, factoring in global gps traffic and signal timing his tires squeeled as he made a sharp turn down a side street cutting off several cars before boosting down the road, switching gears as it were, as needed.

"I know, keep a low profile, you don't have to worry about me. But if the Decepticons get a beat on us, there won't be any profile to worry about!", "Cliffjumper responded back to base while taking another sharp turn, cutting off two rows off traffic which slammed on their brakes and honked their horns at him, but then burned rubber as he peeled off down the main strip. He had calculated this just right so that he would hit all the lights just as they turned green optimizing his time on the road. But Cliffjumper made a slight miscalculation with his first light, speeding through it just as it had turned red.

It didn't take long for the local authorities to respond to his reckless driving as a siren flared up behind him, and it was not Prowl. "Oh slag....", he whispered under his breath while contemplating his next move. If he pulled over, there is no way he would find the Decepticon scouts today. At the same time if he didn't pull over he would attract a lot of unwanted attention on himself. A good Autobot would pull over, regroup and try again another day. But Cliffjumper wasn't a good Autobot, nor was he going to let this opportunity go.

Cliffjumper accelerated to his maximum speed, which quickly allowed him to lose the earth vehicle behind him as he turned into a red streak shooting down the road. This also screwed up his timing of the lights now having to weave in and out of crossing traffic flawlessly, leaving only a few pedestrian vehicles to spin out unharmed - he would get scolded for that, but if he found those Decepti-creeps then it would all be worth it. Besides, the trailing authority officer could assist the pedestrians, he thought to himself.

A screech of the tires as they skidded around, brakes behind applied as Cliffjumper spun down an alleyway racing towards the suspected Decepticon scouting patrols area. "Ah ha!", he shouted to himself as he saw a Decepticon motorcycle slowly creeping along an adjacent side street. Punching it to maximum speed, Cliffjumper raced down the aleey, at the last minute switching his headlights on to full beam and blaring his horn as he t-bonded the Decepticon motorcycle causing him to spin out of control and crash into the side of a dumpster, denting it. "Take that Decepticon!", he yelled out before he rolled his bright red Pontiac G8 form back a few feed an surveyed a small bike gang of Decepticons which had now all turned their wheels and headlights towards his direction.

"What are you looking at, Decepti-creeps!?", he quickly yelled and revved his engine forward in a threatening motion towards the squad. The sirens of the police car, still hot on his trail. his holoavatar smirked behind that glass. "You punks hear that? That's Prowl. And guess what, he's got Prime with him. But you only have to worry about them if any of you survive long enough against me!"

While his bravado was true, Prowl and Prime were not on the way for back up - that was merely a bluff. The Decepticons would either turn tail and run, he thought to himself as he engine idled aggressively towards them revving it twice more or he would take as many Decepticons down with him as he could. With that, his tires squealed again as he peeled out, leaving skid marks behind him before charging the squad. "Whatcha got!?"

Starblaizer wrote:Name: BubbleGum
Allegiance: Autobothttp://www.seibertron.com/energo ... 0&t=44548#
Function: Warden/warrior
Alt. mode: Chrysler Volt
Height: 15ft. 10in.
Quote: "I'll give up when I'm offline, and we all now that won't happen anytime soon."

Strength: 7
Charisma: 8
Intelligence: 9
Tech Skill: 6
Dexterity: 8
Speed: 5
Fire Power: 9
Courage: 9
7
Endurance: 9

Profile: Despite being a small, bubble gum pink femme; BubbleGum is one of the most important of Cybertron history. Created before Megatron and Orion Pax were even thought of, BubbleGum is the oldest LIVING Cybertronian in existance. Her stealth is helped by her inability to speak after a tragic accident during Cybertron's fall.

Abilities: Since she is unable to speak, her silence is usually used in stealth required missions. Her size and gummy color usually draw attention off her as they believe her threat is minor, and being a true intelligent bot, she uses this to her abilities at any chance she obtains.

Weaknesses:Although very helpful for stealth, the inability to speak makes alerts or coms (voice required communication)nearly impossible. Despite the screen mounted on her chest that shows what she says, if trying to tell someone something or send an alert, B.G is helpless. Due to her age, her spark is connected to her frame in a sense; thus, her spark cannot be removed form her frame, or she will offline. Her looks may be deceiving,but when her name comes out, BubbleGum becomes the main target, all want the Warden's secrets and tales; then they want her offline.

Sample Post: Walking through base, alone of course, always made BubbleGum uneasy. This was the third time Megatron had gone after her, just the thought of him made her shiver. Why? Why was she fearing him? She never feared him, or anyone else! Maybe it was because he almost had her? No, he almost had her plenty of times....Maybe it was because of the damage he did? NO, she'd "died" three times already and- wait... That was it! He KNEW who she was!! Or had been, he KNEW her!
Like a gust of wind, memories ebbed their way into her mind. BrightLight, her first form; a simple clean up bot who met a mech that changed everything... Escaleen; her next form taken after she crashed the Quintison ship to save the autobot cause...Joined with the decepticons, caring for no one, planning to jump sides with every new form... Tailblaizer; the form after Escalleen's death against Omega Supreme, warden for the autobots, and a mentor of Sideswipe and Sunstreker. BubbleGum...her form at the moment, received after making the fatal mistake of passing over the con Shockwave...
Shockwave... BubbleGum's hand met her chest screen; hurt ebbing into her spark. She'd seen him, she'd seen him there, but...she just couldn't...she couldn't do it...couldn't take him down, and she'd paid the ultimate price: any chance of truly SPEAKING again. She was the only one who'd let it go, never held a grudge against him...and only SHE knew that when she passed over him, it wasn't a mistake, she never made mistakes. As the pastel colors of morning cascaded into the sky, B.G stepped outside.
~Okay Megatron...~ the words typed across her screen soundlessly, ~You know who I am...~

BubbleGum:Unlimited wrote:I sent in a character application...when will I get any info on wether or not I can use her??