Ep. 1 - Castled - (Closed)
Nov 17, 2014 10:44:31 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2014 10:44:31 GMT -5
The MECH firefighters gathered at the smoking shutter door were not stupid.
Immediately they realised the danger they were in. They had been struggling to lift the shutter door slowly, in order to lessen a cataclysmic event that they were knowledgeable of, and Rook was not. It was not a heavy door apparently; they had already pried it about a foot off the floor. He likely could have lifted it with one hand.
But when the Autobot bore down on them they immediately dropped it. The shutter hit the floor with a rattling bang. Neither he nor Roulette would hear their shouts as they bellowed over their radios to clear the hallway, to get out before –
Most of the firemen bolted. Towards Rook. Apparently whatever was on the other side of the shutter door was a worse threat than he was.
Two of the men were slow, however. Roulette’s dead aim caught the first one in his oxygen canister before he could dodge away. The fireman beside him tried to pull his friend to safety, but when the canister exploded he too was caught in the blast, which ignited his own oxygen tank in a cloud of concussive force and fire. The explosion was strong enough to rip a hole in the shutter door.
On the other side of it, the fuel–starved fire in the hanger detected the fresh oxygen supply and surged through the hole.
Violently.
The backdraft would smash into Rook and Roulette in an wave of fire. It roared over them both, filling their world with an inferno of orange light and heat and flames. For Roulette, there was a flash of agony as it seared into her body and melted exposed circuits before she would be mercifully knocked offline. For Rook, the heat would buffet his armour and instantly cook more delicate systems like his sensor suite and audials before blackening him with char.
Distantly, he would feel rather than hear the tiny thuds of the gelignite incendiaries blowing. There was no indication of whether they had hit any targets, or if the firemen had gotten their warning out fast enough to ward their compatriots away from the inferno in the corridor.
The backdraft was intense, but at least on the other side of the smoke and raging fire Rook would be able to see a ragged hole in the shutter door big enough for him to crawl through – if his optics were still functional, and not coated in soot.
On the other side of the hole was a vast space, steel–beam and concrete, full of crumpled debris and burning mechanical wreckage and fire.
Immediately they realised the danger they were in. They had been struggling to lift the shutter door slowly, in order to lessen a cataclysmic event that they were knowledgeable of, and Rook was not. It was not a heavy door apparently; they had already pried it about a foot off the floor. He likely could have lifted it with one hand.
But when the Autobot bore down on them they immediately dropped it. The shutter hit the floor with a rattling bang. Neither he nor Roulette would hear their shouts as they bellowed over their radios to clear the hallway, to get out before –
Most of the firemen bolted. Towards Rook. Apparently whatever was on the other side of the shutter door was a worse threat than he was.
Two of the men were slow, however. Roulette’s dead aim caught the first one in his oxygen canister before he could dodge away. The fireman beside him tried to pull his friend to safety, but when the canister exploded he too was caught in the blast, which ignited his own oxygen tank in a cloud of concussive force and fire. The explosion was strong enough to rip a hole in the shutter door.
On the other side of it, the fuel–starved fire in the hanger detected the fresh oxygen supply and surged through the hole.
Violently.
The backdraft would smash into Rook and Roulette in an wave of fire. It roared over them both, filling their world with an inferno of orange light and heat and flames. For Roulette, there was a flash of agony as it seared into her body and melted exposed circuits before she would be mercifully knocked offline. For Rook, the heat would buffet his armour and instantly cook more delicate systems like his sensor suite and audials before blackening him with char.
Distantly, he would feel rather than hear the tiny thuds of the gelignite incendiaries blowing. There was no indication of whether they had hit any targets, or if the firemen had gotten their warning out fast enough to ward their compatriots away from the inferno in the corridor.
The backdraft was intense, but at least on the other side of the smoke and raging fire Rook would be able to see a ragged hole in the shutter door big enough for him to crawl through – if his optics were still functional, and not coated in soot.
On the other side of the hole was a vast space, steel–beam and concrete, full of crumpled debris and burning mechanical wreckage and fire.