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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 5, 2012 20:36:33 GMT -5
Silly Phobia, Rampage won't threaten you with death! You're far more fun alive.
Rampage snorts, then replies to Phobia, antennae twitching mischievously, "Should I accompany you?"
He doesn't expect a positive answer. Phobia has made it blatantly clear that he doesn't want to be around Rampage, and really, the crab doesn't blame him. He also doesn't care what Phobia wants, because his own desires are much more important. Not that going scouting with Phobia is really a legitimate option anyway. The bike is faster and far more in disguise than himself, and he'd rather not subject himself to the empathic weight of a city that he can't blow up.
Teasing doesn't count as terrorizing, right?
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 8, 2012 14:15:10 GMT -5
Alright, so he’s surprisingly not being threatened in any manner yet despite brazenly telling Rampage he’s going to have to leave. In fact, the Predacon even made a joke.
“I... don’t think that’s particularly feasible,” the bike mutters, eying the crab suspiciously. “Or practical for that matter.” Was this a trap? Rampage had known about the coordinates for a month beforehand, but Phobia had been relying on the other empath’s senses to guide him the rest of the way here. To ensure the crab didn’t know the exact location- to make sure there would be little chance for him to set up a trap.
Did Phobia miss something?
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 8, 2012 14:41:54 GMT -5
There's surprisingly little point in trying to capture Phobia. He doesn't want the bike to leave, but if he tries and fails, then Phobia escapes and it's back to tedious and largely fruitless stalking, and he'll undoubtedly never talk him into a meeting like this again. If he tries and succeeds... then what? He strips Phobia of his radio so he can't call for help? Cripples him so he can't run? Drags him to the depths of the ocean where no one can find him, hidden away like a precious treasure?
The idea of it is... tempting. But then what? He just keeps a broken little toy to hurt, to hate him, to never change and for him to grow bored of? No, no, that doesn't seem right at all. He thinks he doesn't want Phobia as just a toy after all. He thinks that maybe he wants... a companion.
"No, I suppose it isn't," Rampage muses. "But I have an answer for you." What do you want? "I want to see you more often."
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 9, 2012 18:07:57 GMT -5
The resentment and terror wasn’t something Phobia could disguise although he tries his best to smother it. It’s terribly hard being polite around another empath.
“More often?” he squeaks after a moment of struggling. “More of these meetings?” What does Phobia want? He wants to be on a completely different planet from Rampage! Preferably with a galaxy between them too. Maybe several.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 10, 2012 21:36:24 GMT -5
He'll take the resentment and terror, impolite or not. It's better than apathy, anyway.
"Yes," Rampage replies simply. "Or arrange a shared duty, or the like. Really, the details aren't important, just the company."
He's not going to take no for an answer here. He's determined enough, now that his mind is made up, that even several galaxies probably wouldn't keep him away.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 11, 2012 14:48:24 GMT -5
Engine sputtering, Phobia makes a few small panicked noises. More of these meetings. More time with a person who had the ability to potentially destroy his mind with just a touch. The air feels heavy, closing in around him like a solid wall, threatening to flatten him against the ground. His sight lands on the disemboweled teddy bear again and for a long terrifying moment, the world narrows down to its empty tiny body.
Phobia cycles in air slowly.
“You will not interrupt my work,” he says quietly, feeling as if someone had injected led into his vocalizer. “You will not harass me unnecessarily. I will set up all of our meetings or shared duties. You will stay a minimum of five meters away from me during such times when possible.” Terror or not, he was a Decepticon. If his presence is what Rampage wants, it will come with negotiations.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 11, 2012 17:55:47 GMT -5
"Fine, fine," Rampage says, not particularly concerned about any of the guidelines. He's busy bubbling with smug pleasure, because he's won. Whatever restrictions Phobia imposes on him won't change the fact that the bike has given in to his desires.
"I suppose I'll let you get on with your scouting then," he drawls. As much as he'd like to keep Phobia here with him forever and ever, he knows that's not going to happen. "Shall we schedule our next encounter?"
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 13, 2012 15:25:42 GMT -5
The other option was not giving in and living in terror of another repeat of the incident in the city. The other option was finally driving Rampage completely off the deep end and the bike ending up dead, uselessly insane or caged away in some miserable box for the next century- until the Predacon got bored and killed him anyways. This way Phobia had some control, meager as it was.
And Phobia liked control. Starved for it really; his entire life was a chaotic wreck in and often out of his head and any tiny sliver of control he can find was a treasure. Even if it meant having to give up being safely away from Rampage for longer stretches of time, he’d take this.
“I’m afraid I will see what manners of arrangements I can make first,” he answers Rampage quietly. “But it will be... within the month, I suspect.” He’s going to have to change a lot of things to accommodate this development.
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 15, 2012 18:55:39 GMT -5
"Yes, of course," Rampage says with a begrudging grumble. "Then I shall eagerly await your call." His voice is almost sarcastic, but he really will be eagerly waiting for Phobia to contact him. Or maybe 'impatiently' would be the more accurate adjective.
He doesn't bother following up with a threat. Phobia already knows what's likely to happen if he fails to arrange another meeting, and Rampage needs to practice 'not harassing him unnecessarily.' But he will harass the bike necessarily if he tries to slink out of their bargain.
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 17, 2012 19:41:33 GMT -5
As a mech who had been thorough many, many reiterations of games like these, Phobia has come to decide he liked his peace of mind better than he liked his solitude. Obsessive creepy stalkers were generally not good people to give any concessions to, but they also tended to be the ones with more firepower than the wimpy willowy bike.
“Then I shall be on my way,” he says as he cautiously backs up, waiting to see if Rampage really would keep his side of the bargain too.
OOC: Fade soon?
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Post by Rampage/Xavier Goodkind on Jan 18, 2012 21:58:38 GMT -5
"Mmh," Rampage hums noncommittally, acting more casual than he feels. He turns away from Phobia as he begins to leave, returning to picking his way across the beach. He thinks he may stay here for awhile, and take some more time to think.
And perhaps he'll find a few more tasty morsels.
OOC: Fade is good!
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Post by Phobia/Pierce Fobster on Jan 22, 2012 17:43:51 GMT -5
When Rampage doesn’t try and chase him, Phobia pauses for a moment. Then he turns and high tails it out of there, a rooster tail of sand trailing after him. A moment later, there is nothing but tire-prints and a faint cloud of dust to show he’d ever been there at all.
OOC: Out of thread. Fade is go!
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