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There's more than a few things Jetstorm hates, but today just seems to be full of them. The ladybug, flying through underground tunnels, ramming into things-in this case, said ladybug's web-and organic goop. He really hates that organic goop.

Fortunately for Jetstorm, it's his lucky day (relatively speaking), since before he can hit the goop, there's a flash of white light.

----

The one advantage technorganic goop does have, Jetstorm decides, is that it'd be a lot softer to land on than the rock-hard dirt and grass (grass? Ew.) he just hit. His attention immediately goes to clawing his way out of the webbing, however, and he does that first, then pries the odd disc-shaped contraption Blackarachnia stuck on him not too long ago. Jetstorm peers at it for a moment, chucks it into the grass.

Still sprawled out on the ground and trying to get his bearings, the Vehicon glances around. In this direction...dirt! In that direction...dirt! And a turkey vulture, which doesn't scan as a Transformer, but that looks decidely cranky. It stares at Jetstorm, blinking its beady eyes.

Jetstorm peers right back, then blasts it. (What? It was looking at him funny.)

He then goes back looking around, trying to make sense of things, and finally settling on one phrase that he thinks sums his thoughts up: "What the frag is going on?"

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Thrust reaches out, intending to bonk Jetstorm right on the crest. "Are you glitched? That's a fraggin' stupid thing to say!"

What's he trying to do, here, summon up Godzilla?

...bzuh?

Jetstorm crest clangs as Thrust bonks it, and Jetstorm rubs at the spot, annoyed. "You're the one who's glitched, if you think just asking is going to-"

SKREEEK SKREEEK SKREEEK can suddenly be heard in the distance, and it looks to be coming from the dark, winged shapes that suddenly appear on the horizon.

Jetstorm looks at the shapes, then back to Thrust. "...have I ever said how much I hate irony when it's not happening to other people?"

Oh goodie!

Big fraggin' organic Nightscreams!

Thrust would be more fragged off if it weren't so familiar. "What did Tankorr say first time we went down in the catacombs?" Hint: something about it not being so scary down here, right before the first Nightmares showed up. "What did you say right before a certain tankformer fell on our heads?" Hint: if he never saw that turret-beaked traitor (maybe it was buffoon?) again, it would be too soon. "For frag's sake, Storm!"

Don't ever change.

Thrust looks to Lucy. "You wanna help us frag some stuff?"

Part of Thrust looks on this as an obligation-- his friend started it, at least by the rules of narrative causality, so Thrust is going to help him finish it. Lucy, however, might just find it fun.

She's already halfway into theair when he asks the question, and a hissing draconic giggle is his only answer.

Yes, Thrust.

Yes, she would like to help you frag some stuff.

"I wasn't thinking about that! Not to mention-new planet, new laws of why stupid slag happens!" Or so he was hoping. Damn you, narrative casuality!

The bats-giant ones that look as if they roosted in the ugly tree, only to have it fall on them-continue shrieking madly as they fly, apparently quite happy to ignore the fact that it's too early for them to be out, and that their targets are not, in fact, insects. At the moment, they're simply operating off of insane bat logic, which more of less goes 'fly, bite, screech, and try to die in the most inconvient place possible'.

(With two Vehicons and dragon around, the latter part will likely be happening very soon.)

Jetstorm transforms to jet mode-the better to dogfight with!-and zips off in the direction of the bats. There's about seven of them in this group, all about the size of condors and flitting through the air like...well, bats out of hell.

"We ain't that lucky!" Thrust hollers back at him-- actually watching what's going on around him, this time, and braced in robot mode on the ground.

He's got more guns that way. He also fires faster than Jetstorm, though his guns do slightly less damage-- it's just how they're built.

It's harder work to avoid hitting Lucy than to avoid hitting Jetstorm-- but Thrust is exactly as careful as somebody who saw her wingtips kicking up sparks on the pavement just the day before would be. Bringing down the bats is, after all, a little more important than worrying about friendly fire, especially since his air support can probably take a few hits and just yell at him later. (Or give him a dirty look later, depending on inclination to use up words.)

It may be an indication of her durability that Lucy makes no effort whatsoever to avoid friendly fire.

It also might be an indication of her sanity - i.e. that there isn't much.

'Cause the first thing Luce does is climb high enough to get a good dive on bat number seven, whereupon she very literally bites its head off. And swallows.

A note: organics fighting organics can get... messy.

So Jetstorm is noticing. "Ew," he mutters, firing into a cluster of bats-panicked by being hit by Thrust, they're trying to figure out who to chew on first, and failing at it.

The bats that aren't being eaten or hit with blasts are turning away to head towards Lucy, for the most part. She's the one that isn't attacking at long range, and thus possibly (but probably not) the easiest target.

Doesn't Thrust just know the nicest people?

He's also under the air warriors and their targets and/or prey, so Thrust is re-learning firsthand just how goopy organics can be. It's a credit to his constitution that he's not trying to dodge more fallen parts. You know, unless they happen to be large-ish.

He may be able to shoot faster than Jetstorm, but his shots are less powerful-- which doesn't make a lot of difference when he tears the hell out of one of the bats' wing membranes, sending it crashing down half on top of him.

It's probably nobody's fault if they're too busy fighting to watch Thrust first flail and then run the thing over a few times before turning his guns upward again.

Fraggin' planet, out to kill, crush, destroy, or gross the frag out.

Lucy is having fun! Occasionally she swoops to take a bite out of a falling bat-part, but mostly she rakes her claws along the twisted bodies of any that get close enough.

This is the girl who can bite Clark Kent and walk away with a full set of teeth.

Giant bats frankly don't stand a chance.

And the bats are noticing this, as their numbers dwindle down, bats either dropping from being too injured to fly, or simply too dead to fly.

Jetstorm barrelrolls as he flies along and shoots-this is good, fun practice for Primus-knows-what-else! Practice that's going to lead to everyone having to clean up afterwards.

"If only the zoo crew was this easy!" he calls down to Thrust. Pure flesh bats, it seems, are a lot easier to deal with than the technorganic kind.

Well, they'd've been done a lot earlier, that's for slagging sure. Although the organic bats, large as they are, seem to lack Nightscream's sonic attacks, those were always fun. In the way that they completely and totally weren't fun.

"Or this dumb!"

There aren't any washracks on this planet, at least that Thrust knows of. Considering he's the one gravity's been working against, it's something of a sobering thought.

They won't have to be doing as much cleanup of the environs as they would if Lucy weren't here, at least.

Because a considerable quantity of dead bat is heading down her serpentine gullet.

It's like a slightly gross multi-course meal! Awesome.

And it comes with extra opportunity to show off. Lucy Cooper's other self is extraordinarily maneuverable; in this kind of short-range dogfight, she laughs in gravity's face with elegance and poise.

The last bat finally drops with a wet sort of 'thud', landing in a heap and thankfully missing Thrust. (For once.)

Jetstorm drops back towards the ground, transforming back to robot mode. He peers at the various bits of bat scattered about the landscape, then looks back to Thrust. "Considering what just happened? I'm not going to say anything about the you-know-whats until we're in Kansas." In case Thrust misses what he's talking about-unlikely-he gestures towards the ground.

"Much appreciated."

No, really. Very much. Not as much as he'd appreciate one of them knowing where a hose was, or introducing him to the concept of a car wash, but for the sake of his power reserves alone, Thrust will be very grateful if Jetstorm can avoid giving the universe any more actual cues to send freaky slag after them.

"Guess you met Lucy."

This is Lucy's cue to land in an awkward crouch beside Thrust, pick a bit of bat-wing off his shoulder with one clawed hand (om nom nom), and downshift once she's had her bite, nodding vigorously.

"I'd been thinking of her as 'crazy squishie'. But since you're here, I'm guessing she's not as crazy as thought."

Congratulations, Lucy! This is probably the closest something organic has ever gotten to being praised by Jetstorm.

"Yeah, she's all right."

He does not say 'a friend' because Vehicons don't make (or at least don't admit to making) friendships so quickly, but not even Blackarachnia was ever 'all right.'

Of course, Blackarachnia was a rather confused amnesiac stalker, but that's neither here nor there.

The point is, Thrust sounds pretty fond of the crazy squishy lady.

The crazy squishy lady beams!

It's good to have friends.

"So I know you said we're the only Transformers on this dustball," Jetstorm notes to Thrust, "But are there any more squishie copycats like her flying around?"

He'd like some advance warning if there's going to be more dragons.

"Least one more shapeshifter back at the farm, but I hear he's a rat," Thrust says. No, no, a literal rat. "An' most of the humans I've met have some kinda powers."

Oh, look, a playing field that's something like level!

Lucy nods.

And mock-snarls at Jetstorm, grinning cheekily. 'Squishie copycat' is not her most favourite phrase ever, but it reminds her of Alice even more than Thrust does.

There's a headtilt at the mock-snarl-he still isn't quite used to the weirdness of Lucy snarling at him in her less draconic form.

Looking back to Thrust, he shrugs. "Probably helps keep things like our fuzzy buddies-" he gestures at the bats- "Away from Kansas."

"Least gives us a good offense." Which was no substitute for a good defense, but Thrust was working on that, sorta. "Figure most trouble'd get slagged before it could do much."

He's got a base, Jetstorm.