Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 21, 2007 12:31:06 GMT -5
Started from Station Battle: Initial Troop Build-up #13
That is one acquaintance that that Synapse would be happy not to make!
A firefight, oh joys. It's in these that Synapse is very much a liability. He banks to the side sharply, barely avoiding the spray from those now classified: extremely dangerous guns.
And what was with that Wedge? He can now see an orange vehicle drawing closer and closer to the scene, kicking up black sand in its wake. Synapse glanced from the very very large Decepticon to the smaller Wedge, not even bothering to factor in himself.
In one fluid movement, Synapse banks up and fires up his boosters, trying to swerve around the Decepticon and get to that hot head before something ridiculous happens. The best he can do now is try to take Wedge back to the group. If there's one Decepticon....oh make that two now when he hear's Swerve's statement over the radio waves, there's bound to be more coming. There isn't much cover out here anyways.
"Wedge! Transform now!"
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Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
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Post by Wedge on Jul 21, 2007 12:38:04 GMT -5
Alright, just a little closer and then it's time to kick some Decepticon tail-pipe!
Obviously, Wedge has no idea of what he's getting into. He puts a rev into his engines when he spots the white Decepticon begin to open fire on the teal flier. What surprises him even more is that Synapse isn't fighting back. What's going on here?
"Alright then! You ready to beat this guy down?" shots Wedge, completely misinterpreting Synapse's demand. He transforms and quickly draws out his double-beam gun. "Let's go!"
He begins running, but is unable to go further as Synapse bowls straight into him. There's a moment where he finds himself airborne, a pair of arms hooked shakingly under his own.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Jul 21, 2007 15:35:16 GMT -5
Trying to run away and take his orange friend with him? Oh, no. This simply will not do. Wreckage will have his fun with these two gaudy Autobot brats.
"Not yet!" Without a single sibilant, the phrase still comes out a hiss. Wreckage launches himself into a full run across the terrain between him and his quarry, his loping stride animalistic even on two legs. "NOT YET YOU DON'T!" he roars mid-charge, firing even as he bears down on the pair. His aim is less accurate, but the erratic spread should be harder for that flier to evade. Trying to get off the ground… not quite too high to reach. He might have to jump by the time he intercepts them.
Ground the flier so he has both, or take the easy prey and ignore the frightened one? Greed and battle-lust compel him, baying for both their lives. They feed fire into his relays. Sensibility tells him he should focus on a single target first.
…Focus he shall, he decides with the faintest shudder. The gunfire stops. A snap, then a clank, and the blades swing forward, out of hiding. The points and edges of his feet rake furrows into the arid soil as he pushes off, lunging for the dangling orange Autobot with a barely-stifled snarl. If he happens to clip the flier with a blade in the attempted take-down, all the better.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 21, 2007 16:51:01 GMT -5
Synapse honestly isn't made for any sort of combat...and it shows. At the horrifying Decepticon's roar, his engine jumps, spurting him and his, well, baggage, forwards a few meters.
"I'm trying to make sure we get out of this alive!" he shouts back over the whipping wind.
He isn't able to say much more as he realizes that something large, dark, and utterly menacing is approaching them in what looks like a spectacular flying tackle. Synapse screams as he looses hold of Wedge. Something slams roughly against his side.
Next thing he knows it, he's making a very breath-stealing fall and tumble into the black sand below. Pain richocet's through his body. Speed is good, but that means a lack of sturdy armor. Gasping, Synapse attempts to clear the sand out of his intakes. His blaster is finally withdrawn.
Where's Wedge and the Decepticon?
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Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
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Post by Wedge on Jul 21, 2007 16:59:38 GMT -5
Wedge doesn't have much time to process his carrier's response. He's too busy fighting and kicking against whatever's got him out of Synapse's hold. For the first time as pain lances through him from the take-down, Wedge begins to wonder about the voices over his radio waves. Begins to wonder about this whole thing being a dream...or not a dream.
This...this isn't like any sort of battle that he has ever been in. No matter what, his team was always there for him. This time...this time it isn't happening. He's by himself, in the middle of a desert with a flier (and seemingly non-combatant his mind begins poking at him) and a very angry mech, a Decepticon? The idea almost makes him freeze up. Almost.
"Leggo! Get off of me!" he yells. Desperately, Wedge squeezes the trigger to his gun while still savagely kicking. He really hopes he gets his target.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Jul 21, 2007 18:35:15 GMT -5
And they all fall down.
Wreckage is focused for now on the orange one kicking from beneath him. Wild, aimless flailing, nothing more. No training, no skill. The blows that land have strength behind them and carry impact, enough to jar the Decepticon. More glance off at angles.
"It will take more than this," he mutters, fighting to keep his voice level even as he fights not to be dislodged. The struggles of a panicking creature. It would be divine if only–
Pain. Searing pain blazes a white-hot gun blast path up his side, along his relays, and it elicits a bizarre, low keening sound from him, neither a scream nor a howl. The pain snaps him back to reason even as he shrinks away, topples to one side, and his systems recoil and react, trying to repair the exterior damage. No good. Of course! He missed the gun, caught in the haze of battle. Internals remain intact. Good. But preventing another hit like that is imperative.
Grimly now, but with great relish, he leaps back upon the Autobot, seeking to ram a knee spike somewhere useful. It would not do to be thrown off like that again while he tries pinning the Autobot's weapon arm, preferably with a sword.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 21, 2007 22:38:04 GMT -5
The sounds of a struggle alerts Synapse's spinning senses to the fight nearby. It's now that he gets a good close-up look at the Decepticon. He's not quite sure if the opportunity is a fortunate one or not. Large, white, and terrifying would be one word to describe their opponent. A few seconds later, he notes absently at how exposed the mech's structure seems to be. That part of his mind coming from endless practices of observations a lab.
It's the sound of gun-fire and a strange noise that snaps him out of his reverie. The gun fire coming from Wedge's double-laser cannon and the noise emanating from the Decepticon.
What's he doing, standing still like some idiot? Synapse berates himself nervously as he hefts his blaster. But what if he ends up hitting Wedge instead? What if it does nothing? What if-
The white mech springs towards Wedge. Synapse shoots. If he hits, think sparking Jawa droid immobilizer like in Star Wars IV. If he misses....well, he's just given himself away then hasn't he?
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Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
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Post by Wedge on Jul 21, 2007 22:53:18 GMT -5
"You want more?" grinds out Wedge. He'd say more, but at the slight reprieve of the Decepticon's onslaught, he abandons words for action. Quickly (and rather desperately) he rolls out from beneath his attacker. As the other mech jumps for him again, Wedge scrambles backwards in an attempt to put more room between him and the Decepticon. He stumbles with a guttural gasp as something rips painfully into his chest. Backing further away, one can see the sparking hole slashed across the lower edge of his chest. Take a closer look and see the inside of his driver's cab. His gun is ripped away from his grasp, one of the barrels impaled by a wicked sword.
Pushing himself to his feet, he tries not to blanch at the sight of the charging, sword-wielding Decepticon. Okay, okay, okay, stop panicking. What has Heavy Load been trying to teach him all these years? What about close-combat?
Immediately squaring himself, Wedge charges back towards the Decepticon with a determined yell before turning sideways. The Decepticon would be presented with a side view of Wedge and one shoulder-mounted shovel half. Right shoulder thrust!
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Jul 22, 2007 19:23:44 GMT -5
It may only be his drop to avoid the incoming shoulder that saves Wreckage from Synapse's blaster fire. It is fortuitous coincidence nonetheless and some small, neglected part of him is glad for it.
He ducks into a low crouch, pivoting to his left – putting the bulk of the orange Autobot between him and the flier – and thrusts his right-hand sword for Wedge's right hip joint. He has disarmed the whelp; disabling him is the next objective before he can move on to the flier. He will, of course, have to neutralise that one's long-range capability. Then he can deal with them both on his own time.
That is when the fun will truly begin.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 22, 2007 19:51:14 GMT -5
The bolt flies from his blaster and Synapse watches in horror as the large white Decpticon moves out of the way. Whether it was deliberate avoidance or just plain luck, it didn't matter as instead of hitting his intended target, the hot blue bolt flies towards Wedge instead.
"Wedge! Move, get out now!"
Synapse begins pushing forward, but isn't able to move forward very fast at all in this sand as his feet slog beneath the desert's surface with each panicked step. He attempts to make another blast at the Decepticon. But with his own wild movements and panic clouding his mind, who knows how accurate that shot will be?
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Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
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Post by Wedge on Jul 22, 2007 21:05:30 GMT -5
One moment he's getting closer to that freaky Decepticon, the next, he finds himself hurtling towards an empty space. Green optics widen as light floods his vision.
Lucky or unlucky, the bolt from Synapse's blaster smashes into Wedge's side, knocking him of course and away from Wreckage's debilitating blow. Of course, what he's feeling right now is no pleasant experience. It's as if someone took an electric prod and jammed it straight into his relays. Mini-bolts of lighting arc over his body as he goes plowing into the sand...again. He groans as he feels its not-so-pleasant presence slip inside the gash in his cab.
Something also jabs against his lower torso. It's large and two parts prod uncomfortably. Wait, just wait. That's his gun. Yes! That elation quickly turns into frustration and anger. Slaggit! What good is his gun if he can't get to it? Lighting arcing in his vision, Wedge realizes that even twitching one finger takes as much effort as trying to move Grimlock on a stubborn day. But he's got to keep trying. Synapse hasn't proven to be any sort of fighter, unless those two black things on his shoulders are super blasters of doom.
To anyone looking, Wedge looks very much out of commission, grimacing and swearing under his breath as he glares daggers at his attacker.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Jul 22, 2007 22:34:23 GMT -5
The flier seems to have disabled his own compatriot. How convenient – though somewhat disappointing – for Wreckage. But now he sees the weapon's power and decides it could be more of a problem than most if that happened to connect. To Wreckage's advantage, the flier is deeper still in a panic and his accuracy leaves much to be desired. The wild blast is fairly easy to avoid, though he has to stay low to do so; he twists back to his right, gathering himself into a smaller target in a deceptively sinuous-looking movement.
First one blade swings back, then the other, and he is again armed with two machine guns. He takes his aim with all the care and precision he can give it under the circumstances – the shoulders or arms, yes, damage in the right places will keep him from lifting that bothersome weapon – and cuts loose with both guns. Hardly as fulfilling, but necessary.
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Synapse
Minor
Do not touch...please
Posts: 380
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Post by Synapse on Jul 22, 2007 22:55:51 GMT -5
Now is no time to be freezing up or freaking out. Synapse slips to a halt as Wedge is blasted back, flickering with electricity. No doubt to be frozen still for a while. A while can be all the other Decepticon needs to thoroughly decommission Wedge. Permanently. But he's surprised again as instead the Decepticon's attention is turned to him.
Immediately, Synapse takes to air. Not only would it take him farther from his attacker but he's quite a bit more maneuverable in the air. Nimbly, Synapse mounts higher in the air, processors racing as he tries to compute all the choices he has to make and take. A couple rounds make it too close for comfort. Synapse keens as one scrapes painfully against his shoulder. Way to close for comfort. A few inches over and...he'd rather not think about it.
Taking a shaky but much more careful aim, Synapse lets loose a few rounds as he flies through the air. This is really making him wish he took up on someone's offer back on Cybertron to fit him with some offensive upgrades.
"W-who are you?!"
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Wedge
Minor
NOT a reckless teen-bot
Posts: 413
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Post by Wedge on Jul 22, 2007 23:04:59 GMT -5
"Who cares who the frag he is? Just calm down and shoot him!" yells Wedge. Ah, so the blaster just limits the movement of his body and not his mouth. Lucky them.
Meanwhile, he still struggles to move his arm, nanometer by nanometer. 'I promise I'll never take movement for granted again! I swear! Now come on, I need to move!'. What if he's too late? If he messes up now, he won't be the only person hurting anymore. Slaggit! 'I'm...I'm better than this!'
"H-hey you! Ugly! Quit messing with him and pick on someone your own size!"
There he goes, running his mouth like a motor-chicken. Sometimes, fear mechanisms can really suck.
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Wreckage
Major
One of the Quiet Ones
Posts: 554
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Post by Wreckage on Jul 23, 2007 0:19:48 GMT -5
Wreckage is by no means a coward; he could hardly face his fellows otherwise. He is, however, not a fool, either. Feeling the effect of the flier's weapon is perhaps the one thing he wants least in this encounter. A clean dodge or two and a miss too near for his liking do nothing to quell his dislike. No cover, though. Save a motionless Autobot.
Well, then.
Another shot just barely grazes the ridge of his back and sends a current hinting of agony racing through his circuits. He growls and bolts for the prone orange Autobot, fighting the tingle of his self-repair raging against invasive ions, the heaviness in his limbs; if this is but a taste, the dish is most certainly not one he wishes to sample. Cover is cover, even mobile. That it is an Autobot only makes it seem more sensible to use him. He takes rough hold of Wedge by the head with one hand and heaves, dragging the Autobot's dead weight up1 while firing a few quick bursts with his free hand.
"…I?" Wreckage shifts his grip on Wedge's head to secure it by the seams and ridges. The mouthy whelp makes by no means a perfect shield, but he will suffice. He fires again on the flier, paying all due attention to those shoulders. He wants to know, after a glancing strike netted such a pleasant little cry, what sound this Autobot will make if he lands a solid hit.
"I am your enemy," Wreckage intones with his characteristic, incongruous detachment.
1 - Done so with player's permission.
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