Transformers Universe MUX
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Log Title: We're Heroes Now

Characters: Buzzer, Major Bludd, Techno-Viper

Location: Luck, California

Date: 6 July 2024

TP: Liege Maximo TP

Summary: Buzzer drops by Bludd's office in Luck with an offer.

As logged by Major Bludd


No. Luck Office Park - Luck, California[]

The main North Luck Office Park building is tastefully decorated in pastel blues and greens, with framed pieces of abstract art and scenic photographs of various places of natural beauty on the walls. The cubicles are similarly pastel blue or green, and potted plants are placed liberally throughout the area. The workers here seem in good spirits.


Major Bludd

Major Bludd

Being it's a weekend, the office is largely deserted this afternoon. Major Bludd, in a powder blue dress shirt and navy trousers, sits on the corner of a desk in one of the cubicles as he talks with one of his engineers. The air conditioning hums quietly in the background and the leaves of the potted plants wave gently now and again.


At 12:43 PM in the sleepy town of Luck, California, the distant roar of a motorcycle shatters the midday calm. Heads turns and conversations halt as the monstrous black bike, belching thick clouds of exhaust, thunders down the main street. At the helm is Buzzer, the notorious Dreadnok biker leader, his presence as menacing as the machine he rides.

Buzzer's long, white-streaked blonde hair is tied back in a greasy ponytail, whipping in the wind. His yellow button-up shirt, sleeves ripped off, reveals a muscular frame adorned with random buttons in a chaotic British punk style. Faded blue jeans cling to his legs, held up by a silver skull belt buckle and a spiked metal belt. Black kneepads and scuffed brown boots complete his rugged ensemble.

Round black sunglasses hide his eyes, but the sneer on his lips is unmistakable. Brown gloves grip the handlebars, an expensive watch glinting in the sunlight. A cobra-and-sword tattoo coils around his outer left bicep, a testament to his allegiance and ferocity. His skin, tanned from countless hours under the sun, contrasts sharply with the green shoulder pistol holster strapped across his chest.

As Buzzer rolls into town, his custom chainsaw holstered on his motorcycle and the sheathed knife and pistol strapped to his thighs makes it clear: trouble has arrived in Luck, California. The townsfolk can only watch in uneasy silence, knowing that wherever Buzzer goes, chaos is sure to follow.


The sound of motorcycle engines has become something of a trigger for Bludd, ever since cycle gangs descended on Los Angeles during Cobra's occupation of the United States. Though distant, the sound alerts him and he's on his feet in a moment. The young man seated at the desk casts him a questioning look, but Bludd's attention is on the windows and doors, his ears straining to determine the direction the engine sound is coming from.

Bludd's not a motorcycle aficionado though, so anything past the difference between a Harley Davidson and other bikes is beyond him. Bikes equal trouble. That's enough for him. He glances back to his engineer with a faint smile. "Not used to hearing such loud engines here," he explains quietly.

"Maybe somebody's just out for a drive," the young man offers.

"Let's hope so," Bludd replies, sitting back down on the corner of the desk again.


The owner of the rudely loud bike pulls right up to the No. Luck Office Park and parks his bike, climbing off and taking a moment to gaze around while he adjusts his crotch after the long ride. He then seems to find the address for which he is looking, and barges right into Bludd's office, stopping as he is intercepted by the mercenary's plainclothes but subtly armed security.

"Oi, Major!" calls an unmistakable voice, liable to give Bludd an instant headache. "'Eard you were sprucing this place up real nice. Got some ops lined up, but I've got the weekend off, so thought I'd pop by for a gander." Buzzer glances around the office, eyes concealed behind his shades. "Proper tidy spot you've got here! Any decent biker pubs?" He shifts his gaze back to Bludd. "This ain't a dry town, is it?" he asks, almost accusingly.


The hairs on the back of Bludd's neck rise at the sound of the loud voice, and he slips off the desk again. "Looks like the chances of getting any proper work done have just dropped to zero," he mutters. "G'head and grab some lunch," he tells the engineer. "I'll ping ya when I'm finished with ..." He casts his gaze toward the office's front doors. "... -this-."

The engineer nods and quickly gathers his tablet computer, navigating the cubicles until he reaches a door leading to an outer hallway.

Bludd strides toward the main doors and the obnoxious form of Buzzer. "We work here, Dreadnok. Don't expect you're much for such a concept, but someone has to be. This is a quiet town, and we like it that way."


Buzzer waves off Bludd's concerns with a dismissive flick of his gloved hand. "It's Saturday, mate! Take a breather! I'm not 'ere to cause aggro -- just 'eard you was doin' a bang-up job 'ere, and I wanted to see it for meself. It's been ages since we've teamed up, guv. I'd almost think you're dodgin' me," he laughs at the absurdity of his own suggestion.


"I can't imagine why," Bludd says airily, barely loud enough to be heard. He gazes evenly at Buzzer. "We're doing some very important work here," he explains, not at all sure why he's bothering. "Sometimes it takes up a little of our leisure time." And his emotional well-being, but Bludd is not about to admit such a thing to someone like Buzzer, especially seeing as how he's seemingly mastered the art of denying it to himself. "There are several fine places to eat here in Luck, but most of them cater to the calmer sort of folk. Perhaps there's a biker bar somewhere down the highway from here. I'm sure the internet can advise you on that."


"The interweb?" Buzzer cackles. "That's a right load of bollocks, mate. Never trust that cack, innit? Sometimes they got them AIs watchin' ya, tryin' to snuff ya out," he chuckles darkly.

Buzzer glances around. "Anything I can do for ya, guv? If ya need somethin' smashed up, I'm ace with a chainsaw," he tells Bludd, as if he needed reminding. He nods in the direction the engineer left. "Was that one of them techno-nerd Vipers? Where's his purple clobber then?" he asks, laughing loudly.


One of Bludd's eyebrows lifts slowly as Buzzer speaks. "I can't think of anything I'd need a chainsaw for at the moment, no," he says. "And we dress in civilian attire because this is a -quiet- town," he adds, putting particular emphasis on the word 'quiet'. "This is not Cobraville. It's just Luck. And if anyone were to give the outside world the idea that there were Cobra in this town, I imagine the Commander would be extremely displeased."

Bludd pauses as if to ponder the depth of the Commander's displeasure. "Very -very- displeased." He smiles disarmingly at the Dreadnok. "So if you'll like to continue your bike-riding, chainsaw-wielding ways, you'll not draw any attention to us here in our quiet. Little. Town." The smile becomes more strained on every emphasised word, his stare at Buzzer just a little more intense.


Buzzer nods slowly, finally catching on. "Well," he says, "You can ALWAYS find a laugh with a chainsaw, but I get your drift, mate. Again, I'm not here to cause aggro or draw attention. Just checkin' on you, guv, and your good works. We're heroes now, right? Protecting the world from aliens and dodgy robots and all that, yeah?"


Bludd regards Buzzer intently for a long moment, then seems to relax slightly. "I'm fine," he replies. "We're all fine here. Very busy but fine. I don't know about being 'heroes' per se, but yes, we are protecting the world from aliens and robots." He smirks. "And alien robots." The smirk fades almost as quickly as it appeared. "It's quite serious actually though. The forces which may at any moment be pointed at our planet are extremely formidable. It's going to take everything we humans have, as a -species-, to keep from perishing." He sighs, falling instinctively into a loose parade rest stance, and gazes off at a point somewhere over Buzzer's shoulder.


Buzzer frowns, trying to match Bludd's serious look. "Oi, you know, I AM a trained sociologist. Want me to, uh, check out the reports on those dodgy robots' attacks and see if I can suss out any info that might 'elp with the war effort and defending the planet an' all?" Poor Buzzer looks a bit like a dog trying to figure out a puzzle, genuinely trying to put aside his biker bravado and be of actual help to Bludd for a change.


His distant gaze slides back to the Dreadnok, and Bludd regards the man curiously. "It -is- difficult to remember you've had a proper education sometimes, given the way you carry yourself," he informs him. "But I welcome any and all assistance. We need all the help we can get." He gives a dark chuckle. "Funny, I seem to land in the driver's seat of saving the bloody planet a lot. The floods, the whole... time-travel thing..." He trails off, shaking his head. "At the end of the day we have t'do what we have t'do to survive."


Buzzer gives a nod, his voice suddenly low and quiet. He scans the office. "Could I get me mitts on a terminal and a login, yeah? Wanna have a gander at them alien attack reports. Bit rusty, but I wanna do me bit, guv. I know I can be a right pain in the arse, but... Back at Cambridge, they never gave my brainbox a second thought. Went down under to study them bikie gangs, and for the first time, I felt like I belonged, innit? Me, a right posh wanker with a sociology degree. And they took me in. So yeah, I wanna 'elp."


Bludd bestows a genuine smile on Buzzer for the first time ever. In the back of his mind he's wondering how long this will last or whether the Dreadnok is even sincere at all, but he knows his options are limited. "I can have someone set you up with a guest login," he tells Buzzer. "I understand the need to belong to something," he adds. "A lot of people who work with Cobra have found that place with the organisation. If you want to use your non-destructive skills to help us defend against outside threats, I welcome your input."


Buzzer cracks a grin. "Like I said, guv, bit rusty, but I'll give it a bash." He pushes his shades up onto his bonce, revealing his lined eyes to Bludd for the first time. "Ain't used me noggin for anything but brawlin' in ages," he laughs. "But yeah," he adds, his voice dropping, "Cobra, and them Dreadnoks especially, they're me family, innit? So I'm ready to do me bit, help out however I can."


"Glad to hear it," Bludd responds. "I'll call someone round to get you a login, and then I should get back to the discussion I was having with my engineer." He smirks at Buzzer. "Do try to keep the rowdiness to a dull roar, please? We do like our quiet here."


Buzzer flashes Bludd a mock salute. "Word's me bond, guv. No aggro. I'll keep me head down and try to make meself useful." He grabs his login, and after some painful hand-holding from a knackered Techno-Viper, Buzzer starts prodding at the keyboard, firing endless questions at his poor tech support captive.


From behind Buzzer, Bludd bites his lip, giving the plains-clothed Techno-Viper a duck of the head in apology. "I'll leave you to it then." With another apologetic glance at the tech, Bludd heads into his personal office.

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