The Gathering Swarm - Poor Steve

Log Title: The Gathering Swarm - Poor Steve

Characters: RV, Phobia, Steve

Location: Pillar of Rust - Junkion

Date: 2017 May 25

TP: The Gathering Swarm TP

Summary: They got Steve!

As logged by RV

Pillar of Rust - Junkion

 * The Pillar of Rust is a towering structure on Junkion made up of crashed starships and other junk. Located in the eye of a massive, permanent storm, it serves as a marker to one of the few places on the planet where ships can land safely.

The edges of the Pillar of Rust drop away into an aray of canyons and caverns that encircle it, formed by starships that teetered on the edge of the plateau and then fell off into the abyss below. A good portion of these canyons are unexplored due to the natural danger posed by the decaying structures. There's always the threat of an ancient hull giving way and causing a cave-in. However, that doesn't stop some of the more adventurous Junkions from wandering the pathways. RV is one such Junkion. Another is the reclusive one known only as Steve. The pair walk around a bend as wind whips through the canyons, causing an eerie howl. RV speaks calmly, "This wind is hard enough to peel flesh from bones..." Steve says in response, "Heyooooo!"

If there is one thing Phobia has been forced to cultivate since his exile to this hind-end junkyard in space, it is patience. It was fun the first few times he found Junkions to terrorize, but soon he found that it was better to savor the terror and horror he harvested from his victims when done in small doses, particularly after he nearly overdid it and got mobbed for his efforts. Since then, he's managed to make a name for himself by occasionally coming top-side from his subterranean lair to snatch a hapless victim and drag them back for some... fun.

Today is one of those days as he emerges from one of the many hidey-holes he's discovered here in the canyons, though as always careful to keep to the shadows and be as sneaky as he can. He's got that itch that needs scratching -- a good horror-filled show. Or, at least, as good of one as he's going to get in this cesspool of a planet.

RV comes upon a passage blocked by debris. He holds up a hand, "Wait here, brother." He ignites his Schwartz Ring, "I'll make short work of this obstacle." *Shzoom-shzoom-wahm!* The energy blade slices through the plate metal, and it falls in a heap to the canyon floor. He douses the energy blade and looks back to Steve with a grin, "Like buttah." Steve gives the much taller Junkion a thumbs-up, "Heyoooooo!" RV continues to lead them down the canyon, passing by several cavern openings along the way.

It's the sound of RV's energy blade that catches Phobia's audials, coupled with the sound of sliced-off metal hitting the ground. The mecha-tarantula twitches; already, he can feel the anticipation building. Quietly as he can, Phobia crawls out to investigate, making certain to move slowly and get an idea of what he's looking at before deciding on which tactic will work best to surprise his prey.

There are a pair of Junkions down in the canyon below Phobia's perch. The one in front is rather tall and robustly built, quite possibly on par with Ultra Magnus. Moreover, his movements are precise and calculated, revealing a spryness that seems abnormal for his size. His partner, on the other hand, is smaller and handles himself with a level of carelessness reserved for the young or arrogant. Steve's face is covered in a mask with green optics and a slotted vent over his mouth. RV spreads his arms open as he walks along, "Look, Steve. One day, all this will be yours." Steve responds, "Heyooooo?" RV shakes his head, "No, not the curtains."

Phobia considers options for a moment, then moves back into the shadows. Eight legs make themselves quite handy at this point as he scurries through the darkness, downwards towards the floor of the canyon... and below. One of the things Phobia did during his exile: trapdoors, cunningly hidden and blending in with the environment. Not difficult to do when everything is junk, after all. A remote periscope rises, though it too is hidden amid the clutter, and Phobia has a vantage point to help him spring the trap. Just a moment of inattention on the big one's part, and the little one will be easy pickings.

The lurker's goal is made a bit easier as Steve begins to lag behind RV. The winged form of RV pushes a piece of scrap metal aside as he steps around the corner, "Tell me, Steve. What are the three terrors of the fire swamp?" Steve gives a disinterested, "Heyoooo." RV shakes his head, "Kids these days. In my day, we only had one pair of shoes to share with the whole neighborhood." He rounds the corner, out of view from Steve and his limited vocabulary.

Phobia rubs his front pair of legs together as he watches. "Excellent..." he murmurs to himself softly, almost unaware that he spoke aloud. He waits for that perfect moment, and it comes when RV rounds a bend and leaves poor Steve all alone. And it's that moment that Phobia strikes, hitting a button and opening the trapdoor chute for Steve to have a nice fall... right into a waiting arc web several hundred feet below that Phobia had spun for such occasions. Far enough away to where Phobia can have a little fun... and hope against hope that it's not going to be something as pathetically lame as the last Junkion he terrorized. Who watches 'Baywatch Nights' anymore, after all?

Steve doesn't immediately notice that the canyon floor beneath him has dropped away. Physics is odd on Junkion, and gravity sometimes has a delayed effect. He looks down at the dark pit beneath him, then back up. His optics flicker once, and he suddenly plummets, his shout trailing away into the darkness. "HEYOOOOOooooooo....."

RV's receptors catch the alarmed shout and he comes running back around the corner, "Steve?!" He retraces his steps, looking around, "Steve! Stop playin' games, man! Oli-oli-oxen-free!"

Down, down, down Steve falls, until he's caught fast by the arc web. By that time, Phobia's already on his way down, moving closer and closer to his prey. And as he gets closer, he starts to pick up on Steve's mental vibes. "What will we find here, I wonder?" Closer still, and finally he crawls into view, even if the only thing Steve can see at first are the unholy, sickening green glow that are Phobia's arachnid optics. But it's about to get much, much worse.

For which one of them, it's currently in debate as Phobia finds that most deep-seated fear. A small holo-drone drops down, already taking form and alighting right in front of Steve, and it's that stuff of nightmares... a CL4P-TP general purpose robot.

"Man, this is great! A mighty Vault Hunter! Now I can finally claim my revenge on Jack for cancelling my product line and get my processor fixed so that I finally stop thinking out loud!" A pause. "I wonder what it's like to have a belly button?" Steve hits the web and is dazed for a moment, processor attempting to figure out what, exactly, is going on. He calls out into the darkness, "Heyoooooo?" And that's when he spots the optics. His own widen as Phobia approaches, and he begins to struggle in the web. "Heyooo! HEYOOOOO!" He right arm stretches the binding web taught, and it looks like he might pull free... until Claptrap appears. His optics widen in disbelief, and he tries to blink the vision away. Steve begins thrashing in the webs, trying to get away from the sheer obnoxiousness of it all. "HEYOOOO! HEYOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"I wish I didn't sound so cheery all the time, because really I'm totally depressed! Blame my product line for setting this upbeat cheery voice as my default!" Claptrap moves closer. "Why aren't you moving? I thought you'd be happy to see a friendly face! I mean, it's not like Jack's coming to kill us both, after all!"

Steve continues to thrash in the web, managing to pull his right arm free. Meanwhile, up above, RV searches frantically around where he last saw Steve. His boots tromp over the trap door as he walks back up the path. "People don't just vanish into thin air... even gassy people."

"C'mon, Minion! We have to go to see the Crimson Raiders in Sanctuary!" Claptrap looks inordinately pleased with himself... at least, as pleased as a robot can be, given that he doesn't have a face. "Besides, this canyon's just FULL of murderers and jerkbags, like that guy right there!" And of course, Claptrap points upwards at Phobia.

Steve uses his freed arm to reach through the web and onto his back. His fingers close around the grip of his weapon. He struggles, but manages to pull out a triple-barreled rocket launcher. He brings it around to aim at Claptrap and shouts, "HEYOOOOO!" *SHOOM*

"Minion, c'mon! Your master commands you--" is as far as Claptrap gets before the tri-barrelled rocket launcher comes into view, and then... well, there's no Claptrap anymore! Or even the vestiges of the holo-drone being used to emulate Claptrap, for that matter. Hurray for Steve!

But bad news for Phobia, whose eight arachnid optics widen. "Oh slaggit all," is all he mutters before skittering quickly out of sight. He got what he wanted, at least -- the few moments of seeing Steve utterly terrified by his worst nightmare brought to life. And even as he disappears, Steve can hear Phobia say one last thing:

"I've got to get off this junkheap of a planet." One of the trio of rockets obliterates the holo-drone. Another impacts the ceiling, exploding chunks of scrap away and shredding the net below. The third goes soaring up the tube that Steve initially fell through, impacting against the trap door above.

RV hears the explosion behind him and spins around in time to see the trap panel explode upward. He pulls his Spaceballs (TM) the Flamethrower out and steps toward the whole, "Well, in for a penny, in for a pound..." He hops down the hole, "Hang tight, Stevey-Boy! I'm a'comin'!"

Good thing Phobia disappeared, given that the ceiling where the rocket hit was where he had been just moments before. And the former Decepticon-turned-creepy arachnid is not wasting any time in getting the hell out of dodge. Already, he's plotting his next move -- which, alas, will involve a lot of moving and scouting of a new location. That canyon is definite Not Safe For Work any longer.

RV finds Steve cowering in a corner at the floor of the cavern. Keeping his trademarked flamethrower in one hand, he rushes over, "Steve! Speak to me, boy!" Steve's arms are wrapped around his knees and he just mutters, "Heyooo... Heyooo..." over and over again. RV looks around the cavern, eying the remnants of the webbing. He places a hand on Steve's shoulder, "Let's go home for a nice bowl of chicken soup..."

Steve shutters his optics and says, "Heyoooooo..."