We are a literate, intermediate to advanced AU Transformers RPG Based off of the first season of TFP with dashes of other incarnations sprinkled here or there. Characters from any continuity are welcome however must be restyled to match the TFPrime universe.
Active, with ongoing plotlines, we are always willing to integrate new characters into storylines once incorporated into the setting.
How was it that she was blind again? How was it that she couldn't hear? …No, no wait that wasn't right; the thud she was feeling through her bones was something she could hear-- a near deafening roar of shots fired and metal on metal that sounded like trains colliding.
Her eyes finally readjusted just in time to see and hear the sickening crunch that went along with Sideswipe's dislocated shoulder, and everything that followed, all happening so quickly her shouts caught in her throat. And it was numbly that she was transferred from the threatening palm of the Insecticon to an 18 foot high rock ledge that she had no fucking way to get down from.
She was angry. She wanted to rip their fucking arms off herself, and that she couldn't made her angrier; that they did it to Sideswipe made her angrier still… and driving it all to the surface was fear. Scared. She was so scared; so scared that it hardly registered but for the ice in her veins. She righted herself on her knees, bent over and looking only at Sideswipe, face defiant and strong-- but it was all in her eyes. The damn way they always showed what she was thinking.
She wanted him to react. To shred them. To not fucking worry about her and just cut them down so they could just go back home together, like this hadn't even happened.
“I don’t need two arms to kill your friends, bugfuck.”
Okay, actually, he probably did need two arms, but nevermind. Details, man. Arma was faster than her frame might suggest. She crossed the space between them in two thunderous seconds, just long enough for Sideswipe to get his knees under him and kick himself into a backroll. Felt he axe split the metal along his back, the hot burn of transfluid down his spinal strut, rolled to his feet and did not stagger. The bio-blue glint of energon in the sand at his feet, running down the back of his legs from the gash that, he was pretty sure, had been intended to paralyze him. The pain was a catalyst, hitting his neural net like a circuit speeder and igniting the world bright and hyper-sharp: Cat behind the Insecticon (shouting at him, screaming). The tank-former with her axe. Dreadheart transforming and taking to the air again.
Take the fight away from her.
Sideswipe unlocked the electrical charge down his right arm, his flight mod flaring nitro from his upper back and took off. This was a terrible tactic. He thought this even as he hit Mach 2 half a mile up, dragging a blue contrail after him, sparking red and spiraling after Dreadheart. He felt something cross into his sensor range beneath him. Kickback in the air, the rattle-buzz of his wings so loud Sideswipe could hear it even over the roar of his flight. Dreadheart had transformed in mid-air, killed his momentum, transformed again and was coming back at him. Fuck aerialists. Laser fire ripped a strip of metal off Sideswipe’s right thigh, scorched his cheek. His HUD filled with flags and math. He juked, a zigzag path and Dreadheart followed. This jet was going to kill him if he tried to dog-fight him. He wasn’t Air Raid.
Air Raid… The memory fired off in his head.
Sideswipe spun around, felt a shot tear open his flank, ignored it, rocketed through the tiny space between the Seeker’s mounted wing-guns, into the blind kill-zone, felt his damaged arm get sliced open at the elbow… then put his battle scythe through Dreadheart’s cockpit, caught the jet’s nose-cone with the curved metal of the blade and let their opposing trajectories tear the Seeker’s body shell open like tincan. The electricity ignited the Seeker’s fuel tank. Sideswipe had a split second to realize his error then the explosion – a blue sun in the sky – flattened the grass for a two mile radius. Sideswipe hit the ground like a smoking meteorite 200 meters out from Arma and Cat. Kickback, completely unharmed, landed next to Arma and glanced at her.
“Yeah, you're right, we should have blown him up.” He looked toward Cat. “We’ll be right back.”
That was the thing which lead to the fall of many of her enemies. They judged her to be much slower than she really was. She wasn't that slow as her frame gave out, but she wasn't nearly as agile as smaller fighters. You can't have it all.
The axe damaged him, but damages didn't lead to the result she had targeted, he still dared to move. It was because of that human. Such fragile beings they were, but they really were able to encourage their so called friends, regardless of themselves, they knew how easily their lives could be ended. Or, was it that this human really believed Sideswipe was able to beat them all, and walk away safely.
Arma did notice what he was up to, as he clearly tried to lead them away from the human, she stood there, sheating the blades of her axe, and returning her main cannon to it's place, transforming her left hand into the machine gun, following some kind of aerial battle. Dreadheart had taken the bait, which was foolish, they had what the neutral wanted back, they had no need to go after him, as Sideswipe would come to them, trying to take human female back. He wouldn't leave her to the hands of the cons. That was why Arma moved right next to the rocks, to make sure no mistake would happen.
Dreadheart did pretty well during aerial fight, but was it that he got careless, or what it was, that after few moments, there was stunning explosion. It was bright, forcing her to narrow her optics, and getting her to rise her arm, to block the shockwave coming towards human. She really didn't know what they could take, but she guessed that KB wanted the female to be as good condition as possible. Making sure she didn't fall down, she lowered her arm, her faceplating remaining emotionless as ever. Fall of comrade, didn't get a word out of her.
Instead, her optics followed smoking meteorlike Sideswipe, who was now falling from the sky. Kickback landed next to her, noting that she had been right, and next words he directed to the human, gettin her to glance back at him. "No, you stay here, and watch for your... "Pet". He's pretty much shredded now, not much we can do to make him suffer any more, i'll finish him off, given that there's something to finish." She paused for an second, the part of the plan had gone wrong, he wouldn't tell them anything already in that condition, but there was other ways. "We could've used his information, but even if human is with neutrals, i believe Autobots have no meaning of leaving her to our hands. We surely find good use for her, if you see fit..." Arma finished her sentence, and began walking towards Sideswipe's torso, preparing her main cannon.
She only walked about half of the distance, before lifting heavy turret towards her target. Her cannon packed enough punch to deal devastating blow from this distance, and she wanted to make sure he didn't get any chance to attack her from close, those scythes made nasty damages. While she loaded the shot, she kept her optics in him. "You really got your aft whooped by someone like this... you really were pathethic..." Arma hissed to herself, cursing already fallen warrior, who was supposed to be her prey, but whose life was cut by someone else.
Load wasn't full, but it would be enough. He was already enough damaged, one clear hit, and his life would be finished. "Say hello to Warcry." With that, she released the shot.
The shot took out a diameter of nearly 100 meters, a geyser of and rock erupting from the detonation point in the distance and throwing the dust cloud thick enough to sheet the crater complete from view. The blow back bowed the grass all the way to the foot of the outcrop where Kickback stood, judging the worthiness of the tank-former’s aim. True, he judged, her aim was true. Kickback tilted his head a little and turned to observe how the human was taking this turn of events. Organic expression escaped him somewhat, in the manner that ‘classic’ or high-caste faces tended to escape him – the convergence of mouth and optics was difficult enough to read without it being meat and sinew. It was all nothing like the vibrational intimacies of Insecticon emotional indicators and the human lacked an EMF strong enough to register with him.
Which was a shame – he would have liked to know if the look on her face was purely shock or grief.
“Don’t feel bad,” said the Insecticon. He moved to brace one clawed hand against the stone near the human’s legs, casting a shadow over her. “At least it was quick you know. Not what we had in mind, well, not what I had in mind...” It was said in the most comforting of tones. “Don’t worry. We’ll salvage a few pieces for you in memorandum, if that would make you happy... I’ll see if there’s a head left.”
Which was precisely the moment an ion slug slammed into the side of Kickback’s head and knocked the massive Cybertronian reeling, left optic shattered, the other fritzed to the point of deactivation. Howling, the Con staggered away from Cat, clutching his face and then the air was filled with neon bolts of ion. A rapid-fire volley zipping out from within the dust cloud, the majority now aimed at Arma, as a bright red paint-scorched Lamborghini burst from the dust cloud straight at the tankformer at something like 150mph. He crossed that last 100 meters in an instant, transformed less than 10 meters out, rolled, and launched himself at Arma, battle scythe aimed at her head.
[[OOC: Okay, now Arma and Sides have some time to themselves. Feel free to have Kickback try to help or just hang back. Sides is very damaged, visibly so.]]
Last Edit: Apr 18, 2013 11:54:30 GMT -5 by Deleted
The recoil threw barrel upwards, and forced her back couple of steps, before catching her balance again, and to retrieve her aim, just in case. They should begin their retreat, soon, since explosion that big, was quite surely noticed by other neutrals too. Reinforcements might arrive anytime. Arma wondered, if she still had used too much energy in this shot. Less would've done it.
She finally spun the turret around, lowering her arm, as she was listening KB's talk to the human, about retrieving some pieces for human, as memories. Arma turned sideways, and was just about to tell him to stop fooling around and to get human out of the area already, when first ion slug missed her just barely, and she saw it hit KB, though not lethally. 'The frag!?' She turned back to the dust cloud, taking one sidestep, turning her left arm into machine gun, and began returning the fire with heavy slugs, lifting her right arm, and using her turret as shield.
She was certain that that shot should've blown him to pieces, how was it possible that he was still functioning. Arma saw him bursting out of the dust, still firing towards him. She had less than second to decide what to do. She could just try to dodge, or block his attack, or...
As he transformed, she was still firing, as he launched himself towards her, aiming his scythe at her head. She instinctly tilted her whole body sideways, failing to dodge the attack, or so it seemed... as the blade dug into the softer armor between her neck and left shoulder, she quickly made sure nothing critical wasn't destroyed. The error messages were flooding, but neural lines were still intact, and hydraulics were still working, meant that she was able to move her left arm. There was leaking, but that was smallest one of her worries.
She overrided every single error message, squeezing the hydraulics, causing even her own armor to bend around the scythe, as Arma faced Sides. "Got you..." She slammed her head towards neutral's faceplating, and pulled her heavy right arm back, before slamming it upwards, targeting his abdomen. If hit, she would use the momentum, to throw him back with her strike.
"The gladiator style... one hit kill, don't think it'll work on me." She hissed quietly. This was bad, very bad... she was starting to enjoy this, feeling the fluids leaking from her body, feeling the metal giving in under the strenght, only the strongest one would live, it brought too much memories in her mind. Memories from the ring.
She grabbed a hold of her turret, and formed it into her battleaxe, switching it to her right hand, to prevent too much pressure in left arm's hydraulics, and formed her left arm into fighting blade.
Arma was no longer concerned about possible reinforcements, she forgot the situation they were in, forgot kickback, the human. Only one she saw, was Sideswipe, as her enemy. This was one little flash, of the old Arma that had existed during cybertron.
The impact of the headbutt knocked Sideswipe’s optics offline in a red burst of static. Error code flooded his optical feeds, flaring through his brain until repair systems activated and re-activated in time for him to see it when Arma’s heavy-armored righthanded haymaker plowed into his solar plexus with all the force of a semi-truck. The force was pretty phenomenal. Sideswipe wasn’t a big build, but he was dense-mass and heavy through the molecular level. She still threw him like a light-mass, the lambo-bot skidding backwards in the sand, catching his balance and reassuming a fighting stance across from the tanker-build.
Fuel – his and hers – ran in blue lines down his right arm. His left arm was armor-stripped to the proto-skeletal struts – hydraulic lines and neural-circuitry laid bare and dripping from his wrist to his elbow, locking his other combat scythe deactivated in its sub-space holster. The limb was at half-power, no weapon systems. His right optic was shattered, a blur of static-laced images and electromagnetic feeds pulsing blue pain through his head. Arma was a mountain of metal and heat to him – “Got you…” – saying things – “The gladiator style…” – he didn’t care about – “…don’t think that will work on me.” – while he decided how and in what necessarily horrible manner he was going to kill her.
“Gladiator style?”
Sideswipe came at her. She had two arms to work with. Fine. He ignited his flight mod – rocketed in a zig-zag path and attacked. Tore through the edge of her EM field, slammed into her hands first, grabbing both her wrists and driving them wide to keep that battle-axe and the combat blade out of play. She was big. She didn’t have close-range flexibility. (Yeah, but one hit and she’ll cut you in half, bro.) Warnings flared from his ruined left arm, the one holding her hand with the battle axe, telling him hydraulic pressure was cut, micro-transformation cogs were destroyed, he was losing fuel – Sideswipe shunted the errors and ignored them in favor of shoving the bigger mechanoid back.
“You aint seen me fight like a gladiator yet, glitchfrakker.”
Which was the exact moment Sideswipe yanked down hard with his right arm, releasing Arma’s wrist and tried to swipe the electrified edge of his scythe across her arm, looking to hook and sever her left arm at the elbow. He did this at the exact same moment he released her right arm, grabbed her face and used the leverage to yank her head to the left – bare the torn metal of her throat where he’d hit her before – and tried to rip her mainline out through the wound... with his mouth. In-system energon tasted like shit, burn down the back of his intake, slightly acidic, laced with foreign nanites. He bit harder and hoped - in her panic at – that Arma would try to throw him off and, therefore, rip out her own throat with the force.
Or, if she was smart and his blow to her arm-blade had missed, she was going to stab him through the fucking T-Cog.
Last Edit: Apr 21, 2013 13:32:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
Her head tilted a bit, as she listened his mumbling. She lifted her axe a bit, preparing for attack. She wasn't in peak condition, but she still had both of her arms in full condition... well, almost. She had fought against many former gladiators during the war, and she was still standing, she wouldn't lose now, not against already wounded opponent.
He came to her, using his flight mode, when he couldn't win with strenght, he used his speed, to confuse her, and to strike fast. Next thing she knew, was that her wrists were driven open wide, trying to immobilize her. Not gonna work, his other arm was still damaged, there's no way he could hold her like this, she would crush him. Though, sides once again proved his speed, when he freed her left arm, and sliced it up, or at least tried. It was sheer luck she evaded the hit, scythe cut open the outer skin, but luckily her elbow was still in one piece. She just couldn't act fast enough, as she felt her head being jerked to the side, feeling his teeth bite into her throat.
Feeling the energon spilling through her mouth, leaking down her jaw. The taste, she remembered it now better than ever, how many times had she tasted it before in the ring. "Yeees... yees..." Loud thum was heard, as her axe was dropped, and the same time, she returned her left arm to normal. She wasn't panicing, how could she, this was the pleasure of the real battle, this really was, the true gladiator style. She took a hold of his head, with her right arm, gripping her fingers tightly around his helm, and her left one gripping tightly on his shoulder. "Which one will give in first, your's, or mine." She took one big risk in this, but she couldn't think clearly any more. She started pulling her arms wider, trying to keep her right arm at it's place, not tearing her own throat. Sideswipe's neck was still in one piece, but she had lot of brute force behind her, it would really be interesting to see, which one of them would give up first. Error messages were flooding, but she overrided them at once.
Sideswipe was stunned for only a split second when Arma, didn’t stab him despite his blade missing the dismemberment of her blade arm. Instead, she reached up and pinned his head against her throat, the sudden pressure sending a gush of coolant down his throat, making him gag slightly, the stink of ozone and raw transfluid nearly stifling. The noise he made, of both shock and rage, was muffled into her neck. The heat off the tank-morph’s engines stung his one good eye; the other was a hot-bed of agony that he was ignoring. His split second of surprised was immediately abandoned when he felt the Con’s massive hand close on his shoulder and start to pull.
She’s going to tear your head off, said that part of him that sounded like Sunstreaker. She could have ended it, because you’re an idiot and got too close, but she didn’t. She’s going to tear you apart because she’d rather see you alive in pieces than dead immediately. What are you gonna do, stupid? His whole body was locked up, the hydraulics in his neck cabling clenched tight, trying to fight off the bigger Cybertronian’s attempts at decapitation. Where’s Cat, idiot?
Arma had one hand on his head, the other on his shoulder, leaving both his arms completely free at point blank range. The angle was bad – he was too close to her, jammed up against her chassis - but he made it work. Keeping his grip on her head with one arms, he snapped his other arm back and promptly slammed it through an armor seam where Arma’s shoulder met her neck and discharged the rest of his electrical reserves directly into the Decepticon’s shoulder hydraulics.
How was it the brain managed to slow time, and in such a way she was stuck in a loop. Somehow the little balance she had had been taken out not a second after that streak of red hit the ground. She could have sworn she felt the noise all the way in her bones. She kept feeling it, kept hearing it, the sight of it looping continuously in her brain as the tank-former made its way easily to where she suspected the crater would be.
That wasn't Sideswipe. she kept telling herself. Not that thing that was shot out of the sky and smashed down. That couldn't have been him. Sideswipe was too good for that. Too strong, too powerful. He was an immortal metal titan god, that wasn't him on the business end of that hit.
But then her mind replayed it for her again.
Then suddenly the light was eclipsed, and about the time that she remembered she wasn't alone, kept company by that insecticon fucker. Her glare was venomous when she turned over to look up at it, despite sluggish movements. "He's not dead." She said, her voice rough, winded. Like she wasn't sure if she was thinking it or speaking it and her mouth just ran with it. But she kept thinking it; over and over and over again. He's not dead, he's not dead, he's alive, he survived, he's out there. Felt herself inhale as if to speak again, though she wasn't quite sure the words made it out. 'He's gonna take you out.' She thought.
BAM[/b]
She ducked, one arm covering her head as she flattened herself to her little perch, though her eyes were wide and watching with some morbid fascination while a volley of alien ammo ripped through the air at both the insecticon and the tank-former. Insecticon down, she turned herself over to watch just as that red frame barreled across and up and foreword. 'Told you so, bug.'
They were at each other while she slowly worked her way to her knees, watching limb's crack and electricity jump, taking in all of the odd smells that made her feel as though she should gag. At some point she looked down at the ground beneath her, wondering absently if she should try and climb down…but for what? Sideswipe knew she was here, and if she moved anywhere else, that could throw him off when he should be focusing on that tank. That's if she made it down without falling and breaking one of her ankles, or hit by a passing round. Whatever.
'Come on, Sides.' She felt herself clench her fists, her jaw, her breath gone while Arma wrapped around Sideswipe's head. 'Come on.' He could do it again.
The electricity did its job. Sides turned his head at the last second, so his helm was pressed into the side of the tanker’s neck cabling at the moment he electrified her. The tanker-Con convulsed, her systems shot with lightening – ripping blue and ion through nerve fibers and hydraulics. Sideswipe could feel the current running across his armor, failing to conduct through his exoskeleton. He made a living circuit out of her, discharged nearly the full reserve of his shock tech into her and smelled the boiling oil and transfluid, super-heating in the tract of her fuel lines. It still didn’t kill her.
But it loosed her grip just enough that Sideswipe tore free of her fingers, grabbed her by the top of her helm and kicked her in the chest with all the considerable force he was capable of. She was so solid, the kick launched Sideswipe backward where he hit the ground, rolled and sprinted immediately for the stone outcropping where Cat was. She was still there, flattened to the top of the stone, hands fisted against the sun-warmed rock. Kickback was still lying on the ground by the human, unmoving. Had he put that bullet through the Insecticon’s brain?
“C’mon,” he said skidding to the stop on front of Cat, reaching an energon-slick hand slowly around, obviously intending to pick her up. “We’re getting out of –”
He didn’t get any farther because a massive hand closed over his face, yanked back so hard his helm slammed into Kickback’s chest, nearly snapping his neck. He drove his battle scythe back in to the Insecticon’s shoulder at the exact moment the Con got his claws into one side of Sideswipe’s throat… and dragged them across to the other. Sides tasted energon – his own this time – ruptured fuel-lines sending energon and coolant into the back of throat, choking his intake immediately. Kickback threw him, the Neutral slamming into the base of the rock beneath Cat, blade having ripped something loose in the Insecticon’s shoulder.
He opened fire, but the heavy-armored bug just leaped back, landing a safer distance from Sideswipe’s blasters. Sides' other hand was wrapped around his throat, ineffectively trying to stop the gush of fuel from the cut line. Warnings were flooding his HUD, error code compiling in a furious red tide. Pain bloomed in red zigzags down screaming nerve fibers, spreading from his throat. He’d lost too much fuel already. He didn’t have enough auto-repair to handle a main-line cut. Fuck. Fuck!
“I think,” said Kickback, leering, one eyes socket ruined, “your Autobot is dying, Cat.”
[[OOC: Since Arma-mun is on haitus, gonna just scoot this scene forward and open things up for the Order gals to get in on here. Cat and Elita One and Co are welcome to interrupt.]]
Last Edit: May 26, 2013 22:44:36 GMT -5 by Deleted
He was moving, sprinting towards her, which was both reassuring and unnerving at the same time. If he was sprinting, that tank wasn't dead. But still, she thought, he was moving. She felt her breath catch up with her, breathed again while rising to her feet, eyes wide but with a renewed focus. Here was their chance, to use this opening he created and to go. To get out.
But something was wrong.
First making her skin crawl, then her stomach turn as she stood on the edge; it was about the second after it passed when her brain caught up with her visuals; out of no where, that fucking hand closing over his face.
"SIDESWIPE!" Claws dug in. The next thing she knew she was on her side, knocked from already unsteady feet by a massive quaking. Something in her head must have made sense of it before the conscious part did, because she was driven to the edge before she fully realized what happened, dragging some sick feeling with her as she leaned over. Shit.
It happened so quickly, too quickly, from something that should have been dead.
Fucking damn it.
Her brain was buzzing, zooming, scurrying for anything she could do; but each result turned up with a lack of ability or lack of materials or both, and all in that quick second. It didn't matter; distantly she was aware of Kickback speaking, and it must have meant something, because all she could think about was taking a leap off of her perch to Sideswipe. To do something.
His vocoder was shredded – the circuitry of his vox flayed open, gummed with coolant, searing with pain – Sideswipe’s whole body throbbing from too many points of damage for his sensor net to properly process. The agony came in starts and stops, blooming from the blistered semi-skeleton of his wrecked arm, from the shattered orb of his blind optic, from his cut throat… everywhere. And beneath the tide of fuel and pain – there was the panic because he could feel his body shutting down and not just the horrible, familiar dark of stasis lock but could feel his spark seizing in its casing.
His spark was shrinking.
It was minor damn wound! Well, no, actually, it was a seriously mortal wound but only if left unattended. He couldn’t field patch a main-line himself. He was going to die of fluid loss and core failure, drain out, go into micro-seizures, then die slowly, paralyzed on the ground provided Kickback didn’t get impatient crush his cranial casing or rip out his spark chamber. Sides didn’t hold out hope the bug would resist making Cat watch him maul her guardian to death.
“Oh… that’s not going to help.”
Sideswipe fired off another shot, but his targeting systems were going offline, the slug struck off the bug's good shoulder, not phasing him at all. Sideswipe didn’t have enough energon for weapons. Fuck. Sides shoved himself to his feet, clawing at the rock behind him until he could turn around and loop an arm around Cat. She was so tiny the crook of his elbow shielded her completely, the flickering blue of his optics on her face throwing weird shadows. He could feel energon sluicing between his fingers.
“You’re not going to protect her, you know. When your hydraulics fail, I’m going to peel you open, Bot.” Sides ignored the threats, just scooped Cat into his hand, not so gently rolling her into his coolant-slick palm and kneeling down in the grass. He turned his palm, rolled her onto the ground. “You’re going to fight me while she runs? Autobot, I will split you open and pull out everything inside you before she gets twenty meters.”
Go. Sideswipe stared at Cat, that that would help translate. Sorry, Kit-Cat. I think I can take him with me at least.
She was shaking her head before he even kneeled to the ground, that little wall of defiance cracking enough to show pleading eyes. That godforsaken bug was talking somewhere behind them, but she could only notice the blue of his optics. Electrifying, supposed to be full of life, but now one only seemed to mock the other. It wasn't right. His hand should have been steady, cool to the touch and quick, but not covered with his own coolant. She clung to it anyway, resisting the direction until she finally could only slide right off into the ground.
"No." It slipped out before she even got to her feet, more strongly, stubbornly, than she anticipated. Wondering all the while how the hell things turned out this way, randomly, out of the blue. But it cracked, her resolve and her voice, in the light of his optic. That look. "Sideswipe, no!" Pleading this time almost, her hand never quite leaving the plating of his thumb when she slipped into Italian. "Don't ask me to leave you."
But he was. And somewhere inside she must have known she was going to obey. Because fluids were draining quickly, leaking from his neck, ruining what should have been the red of his chassis, onto the ground. And the more time she wasted arguing, the less time he had to do what he wanted.
She felt sick; torn between respect and her own skewed moral values.
But before she knew it, that thing in her subconscious that must have been 'reason' was taking over again. Making her body move. Hesitantly she began to back up, one slow step at a time, head shaking. Each step felt both right and wrong; honoring what he was trying to do to save her life, and betraying the most basic thing she believed in-- betraying him, it felt like.
Her arm finally stretched its limit, her hand breaking away from that little patch of metal.
This shouldn't have felt like good-bye.
Last Edit: May 27, 2013 14:08:40 GMT -5 by Deleted
Sideswipe had figured Kickback wasn’t about to let his new ‘toy’ get away. Too fucking bad. The Insecticon charged, hurdling forward with terrible speed, mass like a bullet train rushing forward – his movement made the ground shake as he leapt off the ground, landed on the rock where Cat had been, and launched himself directly into Cat’s path, intending to cut her off from the Neutral base. His massive bulk hit the ground in front of her, throwing a shadow across her for exactly one second.
Then Sideswipe tackled the Insecticon and knocked them both rolling out of her way. Kickback was huge – easily as big as the tanker-alt, all corded dense-mass and heavy armor. Hitting him felt like tacking a wall and wrestling with him was more a practice on not getting crushed under the bug’s massive weight. Every time they rolled Sides felt some part of his armor dent, some snap or give. His sensor net was getting to the point that it didn’t know how to process the pain anymore, since Sideswipe was just bulling his way through the agony anyway, overclocking to the point of burn out.
He didn’t feel anything but panick and the psychotic need to gut this motherfucker before he tried to stop Cat. He managed to stop their rolling with him on top, immediately tried to drive his fist blade first through the bug’s broken eye-socket. The tip glanced off the bug’s armored forearm instead as the bigger cybertronian back handed Sides to the ground, rolling over on him, pinning his leg between the bug’s flank and the dirt, nearly crushing his knee rotor. Side settled for driving his scythe into a side-vent and twisting, tearing something out in the bug’s midsection before Kickbrack grabbed his whole arm in one giant fist and pinned that to the ground.
Error code slammed his HUD, swamped his higher functions, blinded him numb. Fuel loss killing his motor-relays. Kickback had both his arms crushed into the grass, the motor-oil rotten stink of his ventilations clogging his intake. Sides managed to spit energon in the Insecticon’s monstrous face, which earned him an audio-wrecking hate-code shriek, deafening him almost completely. He hoped to Primus is sensor net cut out before Kickback started.
“Change of plans,” said the bug, leaning down into his face. “I’m just going to eat you alive.”
Three mecha, two of them still up and moving, the stink of ozone and spilled energon almost covering the cloying organic scent of the planetary atmosphere. Verdigris was focused on those three, sensors shoved to maximum and still getting little more than slag-all at this distance. One in probable stasis lock, from the lack of movement; one severely overheating; one a slagging insecticon. Well, if that didn't give her her target, regardless of who was top dog in the fight...
::Organic on the field.::
Azimuth's comm broke her train of thought, sent her snapping, ::And what on this benighted world isn't organic?:: before she processed the other femme's scans. Human, slag everything to the Pit. ::Secure it, fall back to a safe distance, and monitor. Can't be risking the little thing getting crushed, and surely it's seen enough that you'll not add to the problem.::
Azimuth's alt roared forward - Verdigris supposed she would have to give the femmeling a bit more slack about scanning the flashiest alt mode that came to hand - and shattered apart as she approached the human. One hand snatched it up, the other dug into the soil to kill her momentum and twist her around, and then she had folded back down and around the organic and was racing back the way they had come.
::Target secure. Smack the bug once for me, huh?::
Verdigris sent back a ping of amusement, preparing her own transformation. The fight had flipped 'round, the insecticon now on top, mandibles spread, and a nice seam between his side plates visible. She sent her companions a shorthand burst of her intent - networking in battle, even with a controller, was simply asking to be distracted by someone else's death or damage - and charged straight toward the insecticon.
At the last second she burst from her alt mode and pulled her energon staff out of her subspace. The weapon charged to full in a single stride; by the second, she was close enough to jam the weapon into that vulnerable seam with the full momentum of her charge behind it.
The bug's sudden convulsions did what her own hydraulics no longer had the strength for. It twisted off its victim with a high-pitched ululating keen, and a good shove sent it tipping to the ground to thrash. The One was at her back, EM tight-drawn but anticipatory, and Verdigris had no doubt Elita would step seamlessly into the fight.
None too soon for the mech it had been intent on feasting upon, who was snarling silently at her through a flood of his own energon and fluids. Verdigris dropped her staff and then planted the weight of her knee on one of the mech's arms, her hands already moving into the ruined mess of his throat cabling as scans fed her damage reports. "Hold still, you glitched slagger. I'm here to help." His nearest medical port was so much scrap, and he needed that mainline patched asap; she didn't have time to go looking for another. "You don't have to believe me, but at the rate you're draining out, you've nothing to lose by holding the frag still."
<<OOC: Off to Elita for bug squashing duty?>>
Last Edit: May 27, 2013 15:43:16 GMT -5 by Deleted