|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 8, 2008 21:45:16 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron was hoping that Runamuck would leave him for dead, and as the minutes pass like decades, it seems that Runamuck has. Runamuck cannot be faulted in the least. It's a time-honoured bad guy tradition not to check if the white hat is really dead, Runamuck is not the brightest crayon on the box, and the current really was rather rushing.
However, leaving a trickster alone is always a very bad idea.
Emirate Xaaron twitches his fingers slightly, and the burning sensation returns. He waits. Minutes later, he tries again, and the burning sensation is gone. He just has a body-wide ache from the internal an external damage, and his armour doesn't fit quite right, heated and quenched as it has been.
Slowly, carefully, he heads over to the other side and climbs out, being silent as he can. Hopefully, Runamuck is too far down the tunnel to hear. The lights are off, anyway.
Emirate Xaaron transforms. It is an overly complicated affair that involves his head and arms folding into his torso and his turret flipping out. His cannon barrel extends from his turret. His lower legs cover over his upper legs and treads flip out. He never uses this form, partially because it is politically incorrect but also because he cannot aim. However, it is dark enough that Runamuck will never see it coming, and the space is narrow enough that Emirate Xaaron is bound to hit something.
The antiquate barrel swivels down the direction of the walkway and slightly up. If he can't blast Runamuck in the back, he'll settle for taking out the ceiling above Runamuck and trapping him in a cave-in.
The light tank fires.
|
|
Runamuck
Cadet
I'm not as think as you drunk I am.
Posts: 99
|
Post by Runamuck on May 8, 2008 22:12:54 GMT -5
It's only pure dumb luck that keeps Runamuck from getting blasted back to his own world the hard way. Too intent on hurrying back into the fight, Runamuck's foot slides out from under him again, sending him spilling forward--
Just as the tunnel is filled with light from a tank shot, tearing the rear portion of Runamuck's car mode right off his back, close enough to bubble the paint off the back of his helmet. Runamuck howls in pain; it's nothing vital, but he won't be transforming for a while, and besides, it hurts.
Grumbling under his breath, Runamuck turns just enough to aim where the shot came from, but holds his fire. He doesn't turn his lights on, not quite dumb enough to give his position away that easily, but he can't see back, either, and it won't do much if Xaaron isn't moving anyway.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 8, 2008 22:47:13 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron actually hit someone? Write that down, because that only happens once every... uh.... 8 million years? Something like that.
He's covered in sewer sludge, blackened by fire, and possesses no running lights. This is as close as it gets to Nemesis Xaaron, folks.
The tank stays still for the most part, merely moving the cannon up slightly. He actually hit Runamuck, but Runamuck isn't out of it. That means he was aiming too low. Emirate Xaaron fires again, this time aiming for the ceiling, hoping to cave that patch of sewer in on Runamuck.
|
|
Runamuck
Cadet
I'm not as think as you drunk I am.
Posts: 99
|
Post by Runamuck on May 8, 2008 23:17:09 GMT -5
Options are limited here. He can't see well, he can't spot his opponent, and he can't transform. His only remaining gun isn't very useful on a non-moving target. And that's a lot of firepower coming down the tunnel. All that adds up to "haul skidplate."
Runamuck scrabbles up to his feet, running down the tunnel. As the next shot booms out, he ducks his head, realizing too late that it wasn't aimed at him. Left with the option of getting buried or taking a swim, Runamuck sighs and dives into the water, grunting painfully as filth seeps into his open shoulder hinges.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 9, 2008 0:22:16 GMT -5
In the brief flash of light, Emirate Xaaron sees that he has hit his target - the ceiling. It's not the broad side of a barn, but it's close enough.
Then, in the darkness, he hears the particular sound of metal hitting the fetid water. It sounds as if Runamuck has decided to hit the water, rather than suffer the cave in. That may be the most sensible thing that Runamuck has done all day.
The tank is still, a sullied, charred, and warped piece of machinery from a bygone age, lurking in the dark tunnels. Emirate Xaaron waits to see if Runamuck will make a move or if he intends to just wash down the sewer.
|
|
Runamuck
Cadet
I'm not as think as you drunk I am.
Posts: 99
|
Post by Runamuck on May 9, 2008 1:14:53 GMT -5
For a long moment, the only sound in the sewer is rushing water and settling debris. Then there's a small splash farther downstream past Xaaron, and something small flies through the air, aiming to bounce off the tank's side and settle next to him. A few more fly out of the water on similar arcs.
Yes, Runamuck is throwing spraypaint at Xaaron. The seemingly meaningless gesture will make more sense in a moment, as a brick follows, bursting into flames as it gets hit midair with a shot from the friction rifle, aiming to land amidst the aerosol cans. He doesn't really expect the small explosion to do much other than ruin Xaaron's paint job, but maybe if he's lucky it'll damage the floor enough to dump him into the water; after all, these are Cybertronian-scale cans.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 9, 2008 8:22:34 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron is aching all over. Transforming is physically painful for him, it should be noted, due to the needless complexity of it and due to the fact that not all the psychosomatic pain pathways involved in it that built up due to neglect have been removed. He's been battered around, set on fire, and shot. He stinks of fire and muck.
Still, he can feel a... thing pinging off his side. In his book, that is not a good thing. The turret swivels around to point back down the other way in the tunnel. At the sight of a flaming brick, he only has a split second to decide what in the Celestial Spires he wants to do here. He fires another shot, which will hopefully hit either the ceiling or Runamuck, and he transforms with a pained rictus on his face.
Emirate Xaaron staggers back into the sewer, just prior to the paint explosion, and yes, his paint is scorched. Again.
They were near a fork. Remember how Emirate Xaaron wedged himself up against it? He takes the fork that will take him farther away from Runamuck, even if it means he's going to have a run to get to the topside location that he wants.
|
|
Runamuck
Cadet
I'm not as think as you drunk I am.
Posts: 99
|
Post by Runamuck on May 9, 2008 17:02:08 GMT -5
Hauling himself up onto the walkway, Runamuck flops onto his back with a grimace, letting the gunk drain out. He's missing a big chunk of his car mode, he's lost his more reliable gun, and, with a quick check, he confirms that the friction rifle only has a few shots left. He's a little too beat up to use his car mode much, at least the way he usually does, which means no rocket launchers either. Most of his paint supplies are gone.
Runamuck grunts, sitting up, most of the muck gone. He can either retreat, find another gun and maybe some quick repairs, and jump into another fight, or he can keep pushing his luck. He may not be too bright, but he knows a lost cause. He can't match that firepower. Better to head topside, see if he can find somebody to patch him up, and live to be a pain in the aft another day.
He shoves the friction rifle back into his leg, leaving it to recharge, then pulls a wad of cleaning tissue out of subspace. He'd been hoping to litter it over the ruins of the base, but now, he stuffs it into the shoulder hinges, hoping to at least keep the worst of the filth out. That done, he turns his headlights back on, makes a quick call, and starts looking for a ladder that hasn't been caved in yet.
OOC: Short of Xaaron finding a curve and drifting into sight again, Runamuck's out.
|
|
|
Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 9, 2008 22:54:15 GMT -5
One might think that Emirate Xaaron would now see why the Wreckers and his other soldiers always babysat him and coddled him and refused to let him out in combat. He's banged-up, his armour is warped, his pretty gold paint is all a dull black, and he stinks.
Instead, he's mildly giddy. He shot something! He shot someone! That was awesome. He has fulfilled his programming prerogative as a tank, and it feels good on a very primal level to accomplish what he was built to do. Emirate Xaaron may be a very clever tank who thinks in terms of a master plan, but every so often, he really just wants to blow stuff up.
In a move that is now getting old, he hauls himself off to a walkway and shakes himself. Emirate Xaaron starts to head for the next manhole with a heavy tread. Okay, play time is over. It's time to get to work.
OOC: Out of thread. Thank you for indulging me, Runamuck!
|
|