Nightbeat
Minor
Eternal Foe of Kitsch
"Truth is revealed in the smallest detail."
Posts: 453
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Post by Nightbeat on Feb 24, 2011 17:44:14 GMT -5
Nightbeat, naturally, lets go when Guzzle kicks him and tells him to let go. He sails through space, into the ship's artificial gravity field, and ends up sprawled on the floor of the airlock, one hand still clutched over the wound on his neck.
//Thanks, Guzzle,// he transmits, just a teeny bit sarcastic. Because he couldn't have just crawled across the ship to the airlock or anything. Glitch-headed Wreckers. The detective picks himself up off the floor and starts trying to manually bypass the airlock. (They tend not to like to open when one of the doors has been blown up.)
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Ultra Magnus
Major
Disappointing Fellow Autobots Since the Age of Internment
Posts: 565
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Post by Ultra Magnus on Feb 26, 2011 22:52:01 GMT -5
It's difficult to tell if Scourge is defending Shockwave or just touchy about him. Magnus keeps his expression as neutral as he can – no mean feat when that cyclops is the topic of discussion.
//You actually think there's any real coexistence with him,// he says too flatly. He doesn't miss the new lack of tension in Scourge's arm and he shifts to focus a few more shots there, but Scourge is already on the move, attacking. Magnus shunts his rifle to storage and shifts hs weight back with his opponent's lunge, pulling his foot free so he can pivot as Scourge grabs for his head – his antennae? Magnus brings up one arm to deflect and reaches with the other to seize Scourge's injured arm.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Feb 27, 2011 11:29:02 GMT -5
//You're welcome.// He just dryly snaps back. Hey, it worked, didn't it? He had to get those two in first! Now he needs to get there too. At least the pole didn't break. He positions himself towards the door and then pushes himself off, flying towards the hatch, though his head is turned to watch the fight.
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Post by Sable Conolly on Feb 28, 2011 18:14:35 GMT -5
Yes, Scourge is on the move - minus a few fingers, thanks to a rifle shot. They float off, spinning, to join the space junk in orbit Pz-Zazz.
//If you cannot coexist, you cannot rule,// Scourge argues back.
His arm is grabbed, and it's a weak thing to pivot on, but Scourge does so, all the same. He draws his Sword of Fury and attempts to jam it into the shoulder of the arm with which Ultra Magnus has grabbed him, though the elbow or wrist would be fine as well, he supposes.
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Nightbeat
Minor
Eternal Foe of Kitsch
"Truth is revealed in the smallest detail."
Posts: 453
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Post by Nightbeat on Feb 28, 2011 18:46:16 GMT -5
Nightbeat coaxes the inner door of the airlock into opening and slips through as air rushes out past him. He grabs onto the doorframe with his free hand to brace himself and looks back out. As soon as Guzzle is through he'll close the door.
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Ultra Magnus
Major
Disappointing Fellow Autobots Since the Age of Internment
Posts: 565
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Post by Ultra Magnus on Mar 2, 2011 13:47:30 GMT -5
And there's the rub; Magnus never wanted to rule.
//Shockwave won't coexist with anyone else ruling,// he spits. //You're just a tool to him, the same as I was. You're a child he'll use however it serves him best and when he's done with you– AGH!// The sword finds a solid home in his shoulder and the layers of armour plating there. As if by reflex, Magnus lashes out; the arm he brought up to fend off the grab for his head is still raised and he jabs with it now, aiming to smash his elbow into Scourge's face.
On another frequency, he adds, //Are you two aboard yet?//
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 3, 2011 6:48:55 GMT -5
Nightbeat does not need to wait long. Guzzle soars like an eagle without wings towards the blown out hatch and through the open airlock. Artificial gravity kicks in and has him come crashing down, a groan escaping him as he rolls over the ground before rising on a knee. //We're in.//
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Post by Sable Conolly on Mar 3, 2011 11:25:19 GMT -5
Scourge hurls invective at Ultra Magnus, //Liar! Betrayer! Faithless churl!//
His uncle is an Autobot, one who saw the way and turned back on it. Of course he'll try to sow doubt and reap confusion.
Scourge takes the elbow to the face, his faceplate smashed in, concave now, because he's took focused on trying to dig in his blade and twist, to bore in deep and then wrench that arm clean off if he can.
He pays no heed to the escaping detective and Minibot. They are not his concern.
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Ultra Magnus
Major
Disappointing Fellow Autobots Since the Age of Internment
Posts: 565
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Post by Ultra Magnus on Mar 7, 2011 11:14:10 GMT -5
OOC: Skipping Nightbeat due to time-out.
The protesting shriek of metal being torn and warped by that sword blade is lost in the vacuum, but Magnus can still feel the pain. His anger burns hotter than the damage, Scourge's words touching on older and much more sensitive wounds, and he fights to maintain his grip just a few moments longer, even drag Scourge closer if he can no matter that it pulls the blade deeper into his shoulder. Magnus's voice is a low snarl of hurt and deep, embittered wrath left to fester for thousands of years.
//My loyalty was betrayed first.//
He fires the rocket attached to the shoulder Scourge is busy maiming straight at his otherworldly nephew.
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Post by Gertrude Huldon/Guzzle on Mar 8, 2011 8:55:11 GMT -5
Well, while there's no direct reply to the Minibot and the detective, the chatter on the radio at least shows that Magnus is still alive and holding his own...For now, at least. He gets up and clutches his gun, nodding at Nightbeat. "C'mon, lets get you to a medic."
-------
OOC: Nightbeat, should we go out of thread?
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Nightbeat
Minor
Eternal Foe of Kitsch
"Truth is revealed in the smallest detail."
Posts: 453
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Post by Nightbeat on Mar 11, 2011 13:12:16 GMT -5
OOC: Eep! Sorry I missed this!
"Probably a good idea," Nightbeat rasps to Guzzle, walking slowly down the corridor toward the medical bay.
//Kick his skidplate, Ultra Magnus//
More OOC: Out of thread.
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Post by Sable Conolly on Mar 14, 2011 11:47:35 GMT -5
//You weren't worth it, then,// Scourge snarls savagely. //It is no crime to throw away trash.//
The rocket tears into him, and Scourge wonders if there is any reasonable way he can bring the firepower of his trailer to bear on Ultra Magnus. Space is really not his environment. This is not working as well as he thought it would, and it makes him angry.
Scourge puts his power behind his blade and simply tries to cleave.
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Ultra Magnus
Major
Disappointing Fellow Autobots Since the Age of Internment
Posts: 565
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Post by Ultra Magnus on Mar 16, 2011 14:07:12 GMT -5
Scourge's rejoinder cuts deeper than his blade; Ultra Magnus's grip turns crushing even as lines begin to sever where the edge of the sword meets them. It makes sense, of course. Magnus is second-string at best, a placeholder, a proxy. Naturally, he was used as the blunt tool he is and then thrown away when he stopped performing to expectations and Shockwave's real prize – Optimus – was within reach. It's only logical that all the talk of being valued and necessary was lies. Lies that let him keep fooling himself.
His hand goes numb and limp when the sword cuts through his primary radial line and sinks into the spar of his shoulder, paralysing the limb, but he raises his other fist again.
//We're both of us trash compared to him,// he growls with bitter fury, then squares his punch on that part of Scourge's face already damaged.
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Post by Sable Conolly on Mar 16, 2011 19:09:47 GMT -5
One of Scourge's optics winks out under Ultra Magnus's battery, the glass shards floating like tiny rubies.
Scourge laughs over the radio once. Twice.
Then he kicks away from Ultra Magnus, just enough to give him some room, drags the sword out, and tries to grab onto Ultra Magnus and run his Sword of Fury back into Ultra Magnus's torso.
//Don't be ridiculous. Fury is immortal.//
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Ultra Magnus
Major
Disappointing Fellow Autobots Since the Age of Internment
Posts: 565
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Post by Ultra Magnus on Mar 21, 2011 9:36:01 GMT -5
Scourge's kick not only frees him but destabilises Ultra Magnus, wrenching him free of his makeshift foothold. He hooks his other foot on another protuberance and brakes his tumble before it really starts, but distracted as he is, it does little more than make him a more stable target. The sword slips in between two of the interlocking plates that hold his armour in place. He grimaces; his stifled grunt is lost in the vacuum.
//Idiot,// he snaps venomously as he stands there, halfway propped by the sword impaling his chest. Scourge isn't the only one who can hurl base insults. //Fool. Naïve, arrogant child. Fury is fleeting. Rage lasts only a moment.// He reaches for the hilt of the sword with his functioning hand, attempting to at least stay Scourge's thrust if he can't wrestle the weapon away. //And immortality is the whim of those who choose to remember,// he adds.
He remembers those on Cybertron who forgot that Optimus Prime had fought in their defence against Megatron – those who didn't remember the hero and saw only a monster. Those same people who saw in Magnus the Enforcer their former commander, trusted him, and willingly followed his lead.
//Tell me, Scourge,// he grinds out, mind-numbing urge to keep fighting warring with his weariness and injuries, //what will they remember of a blurred copy of Optimus Prime? Will they remember him for his abilities? His achievements?// His voice turns mocking and snide. //Or will they only remember what a shame it was that he didn't turn out more like his father?//
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