Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 10, 2009 21:48:29 GMT -5
Day 13, arbitrarily
After the flood, Motormaster spends several days searching for Bambi. He haunts the road and the forest and leaves new scars in the landscape from fists and halberd. But there's no luck in finding the little scientist, and eventually he has to give up and look for fuel.
The local fuel feels like gunk in his tanks, sour and heavy. The road under his wheels is screaming.
He's going west. Because it's a way to go, and he and Bambi were going that way before.
//Bambi!// He calls out on the General Decepticon band, little realizing that he's finally out from underneath the radio-haze silencing him before.
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Barricade
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Knight of the Spastic Sword
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Post by Barricade on May 11, 2009 17:40:13 GMT -5
There is a sleek dark vehicle haunting those same roads that Motormaster is spending his fury upon, and it is only chance that they have not crossed paths long before now. Ostensibly, Barricade is out "patrolling" and looking for resources and wandering Autobots to slag. The same thing, really, but that's just semantics.
He's doing as much sitting and skulking as he is patrolling, though, as much to delay his return to the base and that sniveling mess of a Seeker who calls himself their leader as it is simply his M.O. to sit and observe and skulk, waiting for the most opportune moment to act. It is this that he is doing, almost basking under the bright Gillanese sunshine, black and white armor polished to glittering in the bright afternoon light, when the new voice breaks out upon the Decepticon frequency.
Oh what interesting radio traffic bouncing back and forth! Perhaps he should consider heading out to try and locate the owner of this new voice upon the Decepticon frequency? He sounds so delightfully... prickly.
Wait... What is that sound, like a low roar in the distance, east of his position along this patch of road where he sits motionless amidst the detrius of the departed squishies of this dying world. Almost like an engine howling out its fury and frustration upon the miles spooling past. Could he actually be this lucky?
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Motormaster
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Not the Nicest Guy You Know
Posts: 127
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Post by Motormaster on May 11, 2009 22:05:21 GMT -5
This truck is no child of Gillanan. The lines are wrong, angular and sharp where Gillanese seek more natural curves. Swept back points of black metal come off the cab, slicing through the air.
But the lines are also wrong for a vehicle from Earth. The long guns atop its cab, and the double-turrets on the trailer are all wrong for a cargo-hauler.
Yet the kraken-based designs in bright purple all along the black trailer cross Cybertron off the list of origin-planets for this vehicle.
Motormaster grinds the miles under his wheels, sensors sweeping across the still metal hulks. Abandoned. The world is empty except for voices on the radio.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 11, 2009 23:03:45 GMT -5
The roar increases, rising in pitch as well as volume, and swiftly, too. Whatever it is, it is definitely approaching fast. Fast enough, in fact, that had Barricade not been watching closely in that direction, he might have missed the Decepticon sigil mounted prominantly as the huge black semi's hood ornament. The Decepticon sigils worked into those bright purple accents, however, are significantly more obvious.
This must be Motormaster, then, and looking just a little worse for wear as he barrels down the Gillanese highway toward the infiltrator. Barreling toward him without, oddly enough, seeming to alter his velocity at all, despite sitting right out in the open, his polished finish gleeming in the bright sunlight, unlike the dulled and dusty carcasses he is parked amidst.
And nary even a burp of brake or thrum of throttle as the menacing semi roars relentlessly past Barricade, as if oblivious. He almost feels... snubbed.
Now that's irritating.
"Lose something?" he shouts, echoing the query over a burst of very short wave and low powered general frequency as his his engine roars to life and he tears out onto the road after Moto.
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 11, 2009 23:28:32 GMT -5
A still metal vehicle suddenly becomes a moving metal vehicle and calls out mockingly to him. Then the same voice disparages him on the broadband.
Motormaster is starting to find himself agreeing with Accent's view on this place as some kind of afterlife. Because the world just gave him the perfect little punching bag.
He throws himself into a u-turn hard enough to jackknife, and then he rolls to a stop with his trailer across the road and his cab pointing towards Barricade. Lazily, the nearer guns over his cab and on his trailer sweep to aim at the moving vehicle.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 12, 2009 0:19:08 GMT -5
Smoke billows up briefly from skidding tires as the massive semi jackknifes ahead of him, dark smudges trailing along behind from the rubber laid down over the metal roadway in quite the dramatic fashion. Barricade is torn between admiring the skill with which Motormaster handles the maneuver, and wicked glee at having prickled a reaction out of the menacing hulk.
He does so enjoy pricking his nasty little claws into everyone around him. Especially if doing so earns him a satisfyingly rough and tumble fight. Of course, by the look of those huge guns swinging into position to target him, there might be less "fight" on Motormaster's mind than "utter annihilation."
Bring it on.
Barricade snickers to himself, not only not braking, but even goosing his throttle as he charges headlong at Motormaster blocking the highway ahead.
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 12, 2009 14:21:24 GMT -5
If Barricade wants to run into Motormaster, the black truck isn't going to stop him.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 12, 2009 15:03:13 GMT -5
Larger mechs than Motormaster have given way before the infiltrator's suicidal charge before, often falling prey to Barricade's savage claws and fury once he catches them. Decepticons are warriors, not cowards; cowards are traitors, and Megatron's army will not suffer traitors.
Motormaster, however, holds his ground, much to Barricade's vicious glee, and those guns still continue their inexorable swing to bear on his rapidly approaching form. Perhaps Motormaster thinks him utterly mad, or perhaps that he does not value his existance. Perhaps Motormaster thinks him so beneath his notice that he has no real opinion on the charging infiltrator.
Barricade hardly cares. He is certain of his speed and the grip of his tires upon the road flying past under him. He is even more certain of his own agility as but a moment before he should smash headlong into the baleful, rock-steady menace that bars his way, Barricade transforms. Using his velocity to thrust himself upward, he unfolds, the multitude of panels and knife-like edges common to his reality unfurling as he arcs upwards, intending on diving clean over Motormaster's bulk to land upon the other side.
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 13, 2009 11:58:13 GMT -5
The vehicle charging him suddenly transforms, leaping through the air as if to vault over Motormaster's trailer.
His engine snarls at the obvious challenge, and Motormaster transforms in response. No one challenges him on the road!
He's square in the path of the smaller Transformer's leap, and his mouth twists as he braces himself. Maybe the little guy will have enough momentum to bowl him over. Maybe he'll bounce off. Either way, he's not getting past Motormaster without a scuffle.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 14, 2009 22:47:45 GMT -5
Barricade's reality doesn't have nifty little tricks like mass-shifting or anything like that, and so he is what he is. Probably significantly less massy than Motormaster, although his momentum will help. Or rather, hurt. A lot.
One moment, he is aiming for clear air, body tucked into an almost graceful arch to sail over that jack-knifed trailer. The next, there is a rather large, angry black mech just inches away, planted firmly in his path, and not moving. Barricade doesn't even have time to flex his claws out to help brace him as he slams into Motormaster's bulk at speed, and he feels the plating around the tires on his shoulders crumple under the impact.
He's not bouncing off, though. Even if Motormaster manages to absorb the entirety of his impact without going down, Barricade is binding with his opponent... mainly to avoid the indignity of simply bouncing off. What Motormaster makes of that, however, may make the meeting just a little more... interesting.
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 17, 2009 17:49:40 GMT -5
The impact causes Motormaster to stumble back a pace. His feet dig into the road, throwing off sparks. But he does not fall, and that is what's most important to the mech with the unlit optics.
He grins as the smaller Transformer wraps around him and wraps an arm around Barricade in turn.
It is not a nice grin.
Then he drops, aiming to body-slam the smaller Transformer against the road.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 18, 2009 16:32:53 GMT -5
At least Barricade manages to make Motormaster stumble. That will be what is important to the infiltrator later, when he's done licking his wounds.
The wicked mischief in his expression fades into a savage snarl as he feels Motormaster's arm tighten around him, and the shift in the larger mech's position. He doesn't have the mass or the position to avert the impending pain heading his way with the entirety Motormaster's weight behind it, but he does still have his claws, and a generous spirit to share the wealth.
He sinks his claws as deeply into Motormaster's shoulders as he can slam them, trying to bring his knees, if not his feet, up to brace against the larger mech's belly. He can't avoid the impact, can't even do much to control or lessen it, but he might be able, if he times it right and gets into position, to use Motormaster's momentum to fling him off over his head when they land. Won't make the body-slam hurt less, but it might prevent Motormaster from simply straddling him and pounding him into dust.
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 19, 2009 16:03:39 GMT -5
Barricade's claws bite in, but Motormaster's armor is thick. The bites don't go deep enough for him to start worrying.
"Feisty little bastard, aren't you?" He rumbles as he slams down to the ground. He feels the feet pressed against his abdomen, and he's prepared to be tossed. Just have to roll with it, after all, and this is only a friendly little fight with another Decepticon.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on May 19, 2009 16:31:09 GMT -5
Expression twisted into a horrid scowl that Motormaster cannot even see, Barricade manages to restrict his initial response to a hoarse grunt as he hits the road, a few more bits of armor - along his back, this time - crumpling at the impact. Cables tense, and servos groan as he pulls with his claws and gives a mighty heave with his legs, flinging Motormaster off with a snarl.
There's a faint, metallic chime as he flicks his claws with irritation when he rolls up to his feet again facing Motormaster. "What?" he growls. "Expecting me to just roll over and bare my spark just because you're bigger?"
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Motormaster
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Post by Motormaster on May 22, 2009 14:58:01 GMT -5
"Sure, why not?" Motormaster says as he rolls to his feet. He's a bit more dinged up from his roll against the road, but he's grinning. This is fun.
"So what kind of critter are you?" He asks. He's never met a Transformer all made up of sharp, pointy bits like this guy.
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