Stray Cat Strut...?

[tattooed_jet]

Who: Starscream and...anyone susceptible to fuzziness
What: RANDOM encounters 
Where: Teeny cat legs but jet stamina?  Anywhere in the city. 
When: After his Unfortunate Kittenification
Warnings: Kitteny snark, possible hairballs.

Compared to the disaster that the All Spark replica had turned into--and the more he thought about it, the more he thought

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The Clinic!

[schrodingersbot]

"Why, hello there little one!" Perceptor exclaimed as he set his tools down upon an empty repair cradle. He knelt down, extending a fingertip toward the tiny little fluffball of a kitten, with a bemused smile upon his features.

"How did you make entry here, little fellow?"

The Clinic!

[tattooed_jet]

Through an egregious breach in your security system that I shall file away later to exploit, Starscream thought. Or rather, "Mroo?"

He knew a sucker when he saw one, and here was a king of suckers. And a scientist, no less. There must be something worth discovering here. He reared up on his hind legs, swatting at the finger with one grey-padded paw.

The Clinic!

[schrodingersbot]

Perceptor allowed himself an entirely unscientific giggle as he waggled his fingertip to play with the kitten.

"You are fortunate that I have such highly advanced visual acuity, my little feline," he expounded as he reached forward with his other hand to offer the little grey fuzzball a perch to jump up on. "Otherwise, I might have placed a foot in a truly tragic manner before noticing you!"

[tattooed_jet]

The laugh made Starscream twitch--I am not an object for your mirth, you oversized oaf!--until he recalled his purpose. Reconnaissance. It sounded so much more elegant than 'spying'.

He swatted at the fingers, letting his claws out. FEAR HIS VICIOUS ASSAULT, Autobot.

The only tragedy here is that you Autobots, with your nauseating morals, have lasted this long. Or rather, "Ngiao."

A Park!

[jerkimus_prime]

After making the monumentous discovery that high-heels are not actually attached to the feet of human women, Hot Rod had joyously shucked them and begun walking around the city barefoot.

One gravel driveway later, he went and bought sensible shoes and then returned to roaming the city. He had to find that little girl in the nurse outfit and convince her to change him back. His plan had been vaguely just to check out any place that housed human children- orphanages, schools, playgrounds. It was at one of the many parks in Axiom that he threw himself onto a bench and groaned.

"I feel terrible," he whined to nobody in particular, sitting with his legs spread in an awfully unladylike position. His back and feet were killing him -despite obtaining the correct footwear- and he felt like he hadn't even gotten much of anywhere!

A Park!

[tattooed_jet]

Eurgh. Humans. Starscream was not fond of the revolting things. Even less fond when he realized that in this mode, the human was so much bigger than he is.

So he stops by where this barely-clad version, which seemed determined to show almost as much of its repugnant skin as that Mikaela, and began scratching his ear with one hind foot. with extreme prejudice.

With any luck, have some fleas, disgusting pink monkey.

[jerkimus_prime]

"I really should have made Perceptor do this. Or... carry me or something. Fragging mech doesn't even have a cool car mode for me to ride around in," Hot Rod complained, resting his chin on a hand.

On the ground near his shoes he spied a small animal... a 'cat' if he remembered correctly from Earth. This one was... really tiny. And fuzzy. And its eyes were...

...just so...

Unable to contain himself for some bizzare reason, Hot Rod jumped off the bench and attempted to snatch the kitten up and press it to his ample chest.

"You're SO cute! I can't take it!"

[tattooed_jet]

'Fragging'? 'Perceptor'? Oh, disturbing. Beyond disturbing. Autobots having dalliances with these fleshlings? They were clearly even more depraved than Starscream had thought.

But before he could hurk up an Editorial Hairball of Extreme Displeasure he found himself snatched up, pressed deep into the squishy thing's squishiness.

It was....squishy. The only thing you will take is my swift and terrible justice! he shrieked, squirming.

Or, of course, "Mmmmao."

Zone 3 - outdoors/streets

[good_grrrl]

Stormer couldn't figure out what was up with the cats. Her night had otherwise been exceptionally lucky: kids had come to give her treats, record numbers at the door, fantastic drink sales, offers for future gigs, and not a pain in her head or throat, after performing.

Yet, cats kept approaching, and following her. Nearly all of them were black. And, she half-thought, the few that weren't just wanted to see what the others were doing. She'd always thought the black ones were supposed to bring bad luck; it was like the opposite were true. Even after their number had seemed to lessen, during her talk with Rapunzel, nothing bad had happened.

The uniformity of their color made any cat without black fur all the more noticeable. Like the sort of pale-colored kitten, with pattern of bronze-ish-gray-ish stripes.

A black kitten, half-hidden in her satchel, pawed at Stormer's hip. "What? It's just a little one, like you. Nothing to be afraid of."

[tattooed_jet]

'Nothing to be afraid of'?! Starscream was infuriated.

WITNESS HIS FURY, repugnant plasmabag. He arches his incredibly flexible spine, tail sharply pointing upward.

"HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS."

[good_grrrl]

"Aw, look, he's just as frightened." Stormer said, looking down at the hissing kitten. She was no expert on feline body language, of course. She couldn't really distinguish concern, from fury, from fear.

"Come here," she said, stooping down. She reached her hands toward the strange kitten. "We're not going to hurt you."

The other cats, though, spoke feline body language like natives. They variously backed off or took on their own threatening postures at the hissing kitten.

[ooc: Sorry for delay, I thoughtlessly had Stormer wish the cats away before this scene took place, but it's OK now. Bit of an RP fail on my part. ^_^; ]

Behind the Warehouse in Zone 3

[shepard_cmdr]

Turning this warehouse into a livable space is more work than she'd bargained for, but it's satisfying work and occupies her time while Legion builds whatever it is he's building. She definitely needs to talk to him about that and find out what all the scrap aka. the junk pile is for.

For now, she sets the two bags she is carrying down, shoves the lid to the dumpster open, and then hauls them up to throw them away. The dumpster is shut with a clang and she turns to go back into the warehouse but stops when movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention.

She frowns and moves forward to inspect it closer.

[tattooed_jet]

The wild Starscream stalks his prey, Starscream thought, looking up from the mouse he'd caught. Too small. Hardly a challenge.

However, this? Prey much more suited to his warrior status. He stepped back, the mouse scrambling out from under his paws, fleeing with loud squeaks.

He wiggled his hindquarters, preparing to pounce.

[shepard_cmdr]

"They have kittens here?"

What does a synthetic want with a kitten? Are they just here like everyone else? Pulled through from their own universe to run rampant in the city? She shakes her head, it's not like it matters and she raises an eyebrow when it shifts targets from the mouse to her.

...and that little butt wiggle is ridiculously cute.

"You've got courage, I'll give you that."

[tattooed_jet]

They allow disgusting humans here, why would they object to what is obviously a superior life form? Because he has claws and teeth. You have what? WHAT? NOTHING! NOTHING, humanoid scum!

He pounces and then commences the next task in proving Starscream superiority.

Climbing the conquest.

Have kitteny claws using you like a ladder.

Low end of Zone 5, heading home.

[dayglo_cmo]

((Late due to brain idiocy, but still not quite able to resist.))

"Optimus," no, wait, "Orion," well. Frag, it's actually Ratchet... Primus. Pick a damn name for this being at the moment...

He's heading home, with a heck of an overcharge making running a frame about eight feet too tall for his processor's to deal with all the more difficult. Now, Ratchet wants home, Ratchet doesn't want to deal with the fangirls that the actual Optimus is being stalked by and Ratchet wants to recharge.

And he wants to stop stumbling and knocking his head on things, dammit.

Almost back to his apartment, and he pauses at a wisp of something on scanners, a flicker of heat. "Hmm?" What's over there?

Low end of Zone 5, heading home.

[tattooed_jet]

What is over here is your so-richly-deserved END, Optimus Prime! And if Starscream needed any further proof of Optimus's insanity, the mech's sheer inability to walk would seal the deal.

The Autobots follow this stumbling fool? Worse, in millenia, he himself had been unable to make any headway.

That? Was about to change.

Starscream launches himself out from under the pile of newspapers he had been using as his lair, deploying his most fearsome weapons.

...on Optimus's ankle.

[dayglo_cmo]

Newspapers rustle and out bounds a little fuzzy organic, that quickly seems to... erm, latch onto his ankle.

Ok.

Ratchet churrs and looks down at the little being. It's complete lack of fear was fascinating, but, if Ratchet took another step he could damage the creature in his joint.

"Erm, where is a human female when you need one?" They adored little felines, right? He dropped to his opposite knee with a less than graceful clunk and tried to discourage the kitten from just crawling inside the ankle joint. "Come now, little one. You're just going to hurt yourself." Ratchet tapped his ankle with a fingertip, then his foot, these things like sound and movement, right?

[tattooed_jet]

I will accept nothing less than your unconditional surrender! Or death! Death was acceptable, too.

His teeth--kitteny sharp--found a fuel line, and he gave a vicious deathshake. How like you, Optimus Prime, to seek to hide, even now, behind a human female! SUCH BASE COWARDICE!

Enraged, he launched himself at the waggling finger, curling around it in a ball of furry rage.